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Anthony , Ann f Tuppence and the lambs 







It Happened in 
England 

By 

MARIAN KING 

n 

Autfior of 

KEES, KEES AND KLEINTJE, SKEETA, BOY OF POLAND , 
SEAN AND SHEELA, P1CC0LIN0 , e*c. 



Pictured by 

HILDEGARD WOODWARD 

JUNIOR PRESS BOOKS 

ALB ERfTfWH ITMAN 

4co 

CHICAGO 

1939 


I 


c. S. 


3 d ^(jOb 



FOREWORD 

I wish to acknowledge my sincere appreciation to the following 
for their generous help and criticism while writing my book in 
England: Major Neville Swinney and Mr. Geoffrey Bell of the 
War Office; The Major and Superintendent of the Royal Mews 
of Buckingham Palace; The Office of Works and the High Coim 
missioned Offices of the Dominions and Colonies for the correct 
data used in the Coronation chapter. 

I am indebted to Miss D. Hartley for her kind permission to 
quote her translation of the “Old Spinning Song” from her book, 
Here's England , and to G. Bell & Sons, Ltd,, for their permis- 
sion to retell in my own words the old folk tale of Juliana Horatia 
Ewing’s “The Fiddler in the Fairy Ring,” from her collection 
Old Fashioned Fairy Tales . 

May I take this opportunity to thank my good friends Mr. Wah 
ter de La M^re and Mr. Giulio Gelardi, whose kindness and 
guidance throughout have been a revelation. 

* 

MARIAN KING 
Carlton Hotel 
London, England 


Copyright, 1939, by 
Albert Whitman & Company 

©ci A 


132785 


Lithographed in the U.S.A. 





TABLE OF CONTENTS 


PAGE 


A Busy Afternoon . 17 

Plans and Surprises. 30 

Anthony and Peter . 41 

Old John . 54 

Adventures in Selling. 68 

Sheep Washing . 78 

Preparations. 88 

May Day . 93 

London . 109 

Coronation Day . 120 
















LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 


Anthony, Ann, Tuppence and the lambs .Frontispiece 

“ Now,” he commanded gently . “Roll over . up, 

beg, and salute!” . 16 

Tuppence barked with delight, running gaily before 

them . 21 

The figure of an old man was bent over a long table.... 25 

Early twilight in the farmyard . 37 

The farm buildings . . 45 

Peter brought the wagon to a stop . 49 

“Maa — aaa!” the lambs answered, trotting behind 

their mistress . 57 

‘ When he started fiddling, everyone began to dance'.... 65 

The old man walked between the two children . 73 

Walter moved slowly amongst the flock . 81 

“Look, he's fallen in!” . 85 























LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS—(Continued) 


The May Day Festival .... 97 

He cupped his hands to shout his name . 101 

Again the fiddler played and the dancers sang . 105 

The flowers made a gay showing in their window boxes 113 

Westminster Abbey . 117 

“We’re looking for a young gentleman ”. 125 

He reached out to clasp both children in a tight hug.... 129 
The two little princesses , Elizabeth and Margaret Rose 133 






















To the loving memory of my Father and Mother, 
to whom I owe much and who made it possible for 
me to write this book on England; and to my young 
nephews, Joseph Burton and John Michel King, 
whom I hope will have as happy a childhood as 
Anthony and Ann, I dedicate this book. 

Marian King 



'Now,” he commanded gently. “Roll over. Sit up, beg, 
and salute!” 









Chapter I 


A BUSY AFTERNOON 



T was springtime in England. A late after¬ 
noon sun danced over the foliage of the cop¬ 
per beeches that cast their shadows on the 
grey stone roof of an old Cotswold farm¬ 
house. 


17 


















In the back garden a rosy-cheeked and blue-eyed girl with 
brown, wavy hair sat perched on a large saddle stone. She 
was laughing at her brother on the path in front of her, as 
he put a young wire-haired terrier through his tricks. 

“Tony!” she gasped, delighted at the performance. “Make 
Tuppence do it again. Just once more.” 

The boy reached in his pocket. “Tuppence!” he smiled 
at the white curly-haired dog with a round black spot in 
the middle of his back and a patch of tan over his right 
eye. “Once more, and it’s yours!” He held a puppy biscuit 
at arm's length. 

Tuppence looked first at the tempting morsel, then at his 
master, and wagged a hopeful tail. 

“Not until you've done it again. Then you can have it.” 
Tony's voice was firm. “Now,” he commanded gently. 
“Roll over. Sit up. Beg, and salute!” 

Meekly Tuppence dropped to the ground, rolled on his 
back, sat on his hind legs and waved a hairy paw twice 
across his face. 

“Well done, Tuppence. Jolly good,” Tony cried, as he 
tossed him the well-earned biscuit. 

Ann slid to the ground. “Listen, Tony, listen. It's Peter!” 
A smile crept across her face as she heard the deep voice 
of the farm hand and the amusing old song he sang as he 
drove the cows home through the pasture. 

Clearly the words drifted toward them: 

“John Cook had a little grey mare: 

Hee, haw, hum. 

Her back stood up, and her bones were bare: 

Hee, haw, hum. 


18 


John Cook was riding up Shutter’s bank: 

Hee, haw, hum. 

His mare fell down, and she made her will: 

Hee, haw, hum. 

The bridle and saddle were laid on the shelf: 

Hee, haw, hum. 

If you want any more you may sing it yourself: 

Hee, haw, hum.” 

As the song ended Tony exclaimed: “Let's go and—" 

“Anthony! Ann!" 

The children turned quickly around. 

At the sight of Cook in the doorway Ann darted up the 
path. “Are Mummy and Daddy home?" 

“Are they?" Tony asked eagerly, as he followed with 
Tuppence trotting at his heels. 

“Not yet." The woman shook her head as she stepped 
into the large clean kitchen. “It's watercress I need." 

“Watercress!" Tony's face brightened. He always liked 
to gather the little green sprigs from the brook that ran 
beside the old sailor's cottage. Winking at Ann he offered: 
“We'll fetch it! Perhaps," he smiled to himself, “Old John 
will be at home and have something new to show us!" 
Tony was thinking of the many trinkets and souvenirs in 
John's cottage, and the little carved figures he made from 
pieces of wood. Almost as though she had guessed what 
was in his mind, Cook added: 

“You might leave this at Old John's, you'll be close by." 

She handed Ann a white paper parcel. 

The girl ran her fingers lightly over the thin wrapping. 
“Scones." 


19 


“And I’ll take this. 11 Tony pulled a smooth block of wood 
from the basket beside the big black range. “He can 
always use it, you know. 11 

“Now off with you and don't stay too long! 11 The 
woman glanced at the clock. “You want to be here when 
your father and mother return, and tea will be ready. 11 
She walked toward the larder off the kitchen. 

“Come, Tuppence, 11 Tony called to the terrier, sniffing 
about the room for stray scraps of food. “Come on. We'll 
show Old John your tricks." He opened the cupboard 
and thrust two biscuits into his pocket. 

Tuppence barked with delight, running gaily before 
them, as they stepped into the sunshine. 

At the cowshed Tony looked over the top of the half 
door. “Peter," he called to the farm hand, “we're off to 
Old John's for watercress, and I'm taking him this." He 
held up the piece of wood. 

“Hurry back. I'll need some help now that your father's 
away." The man grinned as he looked up from a pail of 
warm milk. 

“We will." Tony hurried to overtake Ann, already at 
the end of the garden path, gazing at the rows of blooming 
polyanthus, red as beetroot, the dusty miller, white like 
snow, and the forget-me-nots, bluer than the sky. 

That morning Father had lifted specimens of the plants 
from their beds, to place them in brown earth in a dark 
blue flower box, ready to travel to London. How proud 
Mummy looked as she sat next to him in the train with 
the gay-colored flowers on her lap. Today Mummy and 
Daddy were in London showing the blossoms to Uncle 


20 



Tuppence barked with delight, running gaily before them 








James, who was placing orders for floral decorations to be 
used on the windowsills of his hotel on the Coronation 
route. 

“Every one of the Coronation colors.” Tony’s eyes spark' 
led as he joined his sister and looked at the rows of red, 
white and blue. “If we could only see the Procession! 
But the seats cost too much!” he sighed regretfully. 

“I do hope Daddy gets the order,” Ann said, “and Uncle 
James likes them.” 

“Well, he should.” Tony was quite indignant. “But 
we’ll soon know.” He stooped for a stone and paused be' 
fore throwing it. “I say, Ann, we’d bettei hurry or Mum' 
my and Daddy will be back before we are. Come on, Tup- 
pence,” he called, “go fetch it.” He pitched the pebble 
down the path ahead of him. 

In the distance wreaths of blue smoke curled from the 
chimneys of cottages and farmhouses that dotted the roll' 
ing slopes of the Cotswold hills. Green hawthorn hedges 
glistened in the sunlight, and apple and cherry trees made 
a fairy garden of pink and white spring blossoms. Clumps 
of gorse glowed golden against grey stone walls. Young 
lambs were bleating as they frisked beside their mothers 
in the green fields. 

“This way. Tuppence. This way,” Tony beckoned. They 
started down the avenue bordered on both sides by tall, 
budding chestnut trees. 

“Look, Tony, look!” Ann skipped ahead as they turned 
into the lane leading through a small wood. “The blue' 
bells are coming out.” Her sharp eyes had already caught 
the glint of smoky blue where the wild hyacinths, a regU' 


22 


lar carpet of them, were springing up between the trees. 

“And it won't be long before the whole place will be 
filled with them," Tony returned. He knew every inch 
of the surrounding fields and woods, and the habits and 
haunts of the little animals that lived and played in them. 
He knew where the birds were likely to build their nests, 
and when and where the wild flowers would bloom. 

As they reached the footbridge over the brook, Tup' 
pence scampered down the bank as fast as his short legs 
would carry him. 

Tony let the block of wood slide to the ground. “Tup' 
pence!’’ he shouted. “Come back here! Comeback!" He 
dashed after the terrier and grabbed a hind leg just as his 
front paws dipped into the stream. He tucked the yelping 
animal under his arm. “If you had to have a bath," Tony 
scolded, “you’d run and hide, but you’re always ready to 
go for a swim on your own. Not this time, old fellow." 
He started to climb back up the bank, but paused to stare 
at Ann, leaning over the railing. 

“There’s a whole bed of cress. There, down there!" 
She pointed toward a garden of leafy green sprigs growing 
out of the water near the bridge. 

“We’ll gather it when we come back! ’’ Tony was anxious 
to get on. He stooped for the wood and tightened his hold 
on the wriggling dog. 

As they hurried up the path they could see shoots of 
fresh young grass on the roof of the old stone cottage. 

Tony put Tuppence down as they neared the doorway. 

The figure of an old man was bent over a long table. His 
penknife nicked here and there, as he put the final touches 


23 


to a little figure he had been whittling. As he worked he 
hummed. 

The children heard the tune and started to sing. 

Old John started, looked up, smiled, then chanted with 
them: 

“I saw a ship assailing 
Assailing on the sea: 

And it was full of pretty things 
For baby and for me. 

There were sweetmeats in the cabin, 

And apples in the hold: 

The sails were made of silk, 

And the masts were made of gold. 

The four'and'twenty sailors 
That stood between the decks: 

Were four-and-twenty white mice, 

With chains about their necks. 

The captain was a duck, 

With a package on his back: 

And when the ship began to move, 

The captain cried, “Quack, quack!” 

“Why, bless me! Ann and Anthony Edwards. What a 
fine surprise. Come in. Do come in.” The seaman greeted 
them. “I'm just finishing up.” He grinned and closed his 
knife. 

“Eve brought you this.” Tony laid the block on the 
table. 

“What a fine piece!” Old John said. He examined the 
wood. “It'll do very nicely,” and he smiled gratefully at 
the boy. 


24 



The figure 0 / an old man was bent over a long table 



















“And Cook sent you these.” Ann set the scones beside 
Tony’s gift. 

“Thank her.” Old John opened the parcel. “Do thank 
her. They will go very well with my tea.” 

“And Tuppence has some new tricks,” Tony boasted 
proudly, whistling to the terrier. 

In the doorway Tuppence cocked his shaggy head to 
one side, wagged his tail, then walked into the cottage. 

“Let me see them.” Old John patted the dog’s head. 

“Look, Tony!” Ann’s eyes were round with excitement 
as she gazed at the new model in front of her on the table. 
“It’s a ship. A real battleship,” she exclaimed, bending 
in delight over the miniature ship. 

“It’s after the one I sailed on.” Old John told them, 
smiling at the memory of his seafaring days. 

“Have you made any others?” Tony asked eagerly, for¬ 
getting Tuppence and his tricks. 

“I should say I have,” Old John exclaimed. He walked 
to an old sea chest at the far end of the room. From it he 
took a box holding five little carved figures: a sailor, a 
captain in full dress uniform, a pilot boat, a lighthouse and 
a little dog. He stood them in a row on the work bench 
beside the miniature warship, eying them with pride. 

“If,” Old John smiled as he lifted his eyes to a picture 
over the table, “if I could sell them, I’d buy a railway ticket; 
and I’d go to London and stand to see you ride in your 
own Coronation procession. And I’d wave and shout— 
and—” his voice faded away. 

Tony and Ann gazed at the model of a young man in 
naval uniform, then quickly back at the picture on the wall. 


26 


“It’s King George VI when he was a cadet.” 

“Once,” Old John said, “when our King was in the 
Navy, he visited my ship—" 

“That one,” interrupted Ann, pointing to the latest 
model. 

“One just like her,” Old John went on. “He had not 
been in the service very long, but I could tell by the looks 
of him and the way he noticed things, that he had the 
makings of a real officer—yes, a real one! And,” he finished 
loyally, “he's going to make us a fine King!” 

“Think of it, Tony, Old John’s actually seen the King.” 

The boy leaned over to get a better view of the various 
figures in front of him, then faced the old man. “Did you 
ever try to sell them?” he asked with interest. 

“Not as yet. I’ve often thought of it, but that’s as far as 
I’ve ever got,” he answered. “But come. What about 
Tuppence and his tricks?” 

At the sound of his name the sleepy terrier on the floor 
wagged his short little tail. 

Tony ignored him. His mind was on other things. He 
reached for the figure of the officer in uniform. “I say!” 
His voice trembled with excitement. “Perhaps you could 
sell them to a shop in Stratford! I know one that has toys 
and—” 

“In Stratford?” Old John stared at him. 

“In Stratford,” Tony repeated. “Don’t you know Mr. 
Williams’ shop—the one opposite the Post Office?” 

“You mean—” 

But Ann had caught the sound of a shrill whistle. “Tony, 
the train’s in!” She and Tony hurried to the doorway. 


27 


They could see the engine pulling its long line of car' 
riages into the station. “It’s Mummy’s and Daddy’s train. 
We'd better hurry.’’ 

“But the watercress? What will Cook say?’’ 

“Oh, bother Cook!’’ Tony retorted. “We’ll get it to- 
morrow!” 

“Watercress, did you say?” Old John stepped into the 
yard and walked to the side of the cottage. “Here’s plenty 
of it!” He chuckled as he pulled three thick bunches out 
of a pail of water and put them in a basket, which he handed 
to Ann. “Take the basket along with you and bring it 
back later—any time will do. And Tuppence, too,” he 
added. “I haven’t seen his new tricks yet, you know!” 

Ann took the basket gratefully. “Thanks ever so much,” 
she cried as she ran off. 

“Come on. Tuppence,” Tony called. “I think I'd better 
carry you. We’ve got to hurry.” He tucked the dog under 
his arm and started up the path, but turned and shouted 
to the old seaman in the doorway, “I’ll ask Peter and Dad 
about the models. They’ll know!” 

Old John nodded smilingly, and watched the boy hurry' 
ing after Ann, now nearly at the bridge. 

Silently the boy and girl walked up the lane. 

Ak they entered the avenue Ann looked at her brother. 
“Oh, Tony!” she exclaimed. “I wonder if Peter and 
Daddy could help—I wonder if we can—oh, Tony, I won' 
der if—” 

“Stop your wondering and come along.” Tony was try' 
ing to think and did not want to be disturbed. 

“Oh, well, we’ll soon find out,” and Ann darted ahead. 


28 





"Come on, Tuppence! Well race her." Tony set the 
terrier down. 

Soon gaining the lead, he smiled to himself as he heard 
a breathless voice behind him gasp, "Wait, Tony Please 
wait for me!’’ 

At the gate he paused to reach for a handkerchief, laugh" 
ing at the sight of his sister’s face, scarlet from running. 
"Hurry, Ann. Can’t you hurry? Fancy being so slow!’’ 
He teased. But he stopped long enough for her to catch 
up, and the two walked side by side toward the old farm 
house, while the sun sank leisurely behind the copper 
beeches. 

Tuppence trotted after them. 





Chapter II 

PLANS AND SURPRISES 

Ann left the basket of cress on the kitchen table. Quickly 
she climbed three stone steps leading into the dining room. 
“Mummy! Daddy!” she shouted joyfully to the sturdy 
farmer and the kinddooking woman beside him. 

“Did you get the order? Did you?” Tony wanted to 
know. 

His father’s bronzed face, tanned by the wind, rain and 
sun, wrinkled slowly into a big smile. “Get your breath 
and—” 


30 




“Wash your hands and faces.” Mother’s brown eyes 
twinkled as she looked at the flushed faces before her. 

“Oh, Tony! I wonder if Father got it! I wonder—” 
Ann peered over the top of a towel as she rubbed her face. 

But Tony was already hurrying down the stone passage' 
way. 

As father, mother, boy and girl sat around the long oak 
table covered by a clean white cloth, Tony’s eyes were 
focussed on Father helping himself to a toasted teacake. 

Ann’s hand trembled as she reached for a slice of thin 
buttered brown bread. Tony saw his father’s mouth open. 
Impatiently he fidgeted in his chair and toyed with a fork, 
waiting for him to speak. 

Father bit into the cake. 

Tony’s curious big blue eyes grew rounder. He could 
not keep his tongue quiet a second longer. “I say, Dad! ” 
he blurted out. “Was Uncle James—did he give—? Oh, 
Dad, did you get the order?” Tony took a deep breath and 
slumped into his chair. 

“The order?” Father laughed goodmaturedly at the 
boy’s anxious expression. He glanced at Mother, then 
turned to Tony again. “The order? What order?” He was 
pretending not to understand. 

“The order for the flowers,” Tony answered impatiently. 

“You mean the one from Uncle James?” Father teased. 

“Please tell us, please!” Ann begged. 

“I shan’t know,” Father answered, “until Saturday.” 

“That’s a whole week off. But why?” Ann asked, dis' 
appointed. 

“There are many others competing,” Father explained, 


31 


"and the board of directors has to decide as well as Uncle 
James.'” 

"But didn’t Uncle James say whether he liked them?” 
Tony was persistent. 

"Your uncle thought they were fine healthy plants, and 
just the right colors for his windows, but he could say 
nothing more.” 

"Well, that’s something!” And Tony helped himself 
generously to damson cheese. 

"However—” father grinned. 

Ann and Tony stared hopefully. 

"Your uncle sent a message to each of you.” 

"A message?” Ann gulped. 

Tony, excited, dropped his thickly spread piece of bread 
onto his plate as he watched Father reach into his pocket. 

"Let me see, let me see.” Father grinned, and pulled 
from a small packet of paper four white envelopes. "This 
one,” he leaned toward Mother, "is for you. And this 
one,” he laid the folder on the table, "is for me. And 
these,” he reached out his hand toward the eager boy and 
girl—"are for Anthony and Ann.” 

"Ann, Ann!” Tony jumped up from the table. "It’s a 
seat for the Coronation Procession, and we’re to see it 
from Uncle James’ hotel!” He waved a blue cardboard 
badge, with printed gold letters across the top and his 
name written in ink beneath. 

"Oh, Mummy! ” Ann hugged her mother. "Oh, Mum¬ 
my,” she clasped her tighter, "I wanted to see it so much 
and just to think we’re actually going—all of us,” she ended 
breathlessly. 


32 


“Act—ual—ly!” Tony muttered. 

“Why, Tony!” Ann was puzzled, and looked at her 
brother staring into open space. “You said only this after' 
noon you wished you could see it—” 

“I know. I know I did,” Tony admitted. “But I was 
thinking of—” 

“Thinking of what?” Ann was curious. 

“Old John.” 

“Old John?” Father glanced anxiously at Mother, then 
faced the boy. “Has anything happened to him?" he asked, 
concerned over the retired seaman living alone in his little 
cottage. “Has it?” Father’s tone was insistent. 

Ann shook her head “He’s all right,” she said, “but—” 

“But what?” Father interrupted, relieved. 

“I was only thinking,” Tony said. His face brightened 
as he remembered the trim little models on the old man’s 
table and the longing look in his eyes as he gazed at the 
picture of the King. Unconsciously he repeated aloud Old 
John’s own words. “If I could sell them—” 

“Sell what?” Father asked. 

Tony looked straight across at Father. “His models!” 

Ann’s eyes were round with excitement. “He’s made 
them with a knife out of wood. We saw them this after' 
noon. A battleship. A sailor. An officer in uniform. A 
lighthouse. A pilot boat and a little dog. Old John wants 
to sell them.” 

“Where does he say he wants to take them, and to 
whom?” Father asked with interest. 

Tony stammered, “I thought that perhaps—” 

“Tony thought,” Ann began, “that—” 


33 


Tony picked up his courage again and finished the sen- 
tence. "I thought that you and Peter would take him with 
you the next time you went to Stratford to Mr. Williams' 
shop. And that perhaps Mr. Williams would buy or sell 
them for him. Then he could go and see the Coronation." 

“He wants to see the Coronation, does he?" 

Ann spoke up. “You see," she said wistfully, as her 
fingers played lightly over the gold lettering on the little 
blue badge on the table, “if Old John could sell his models 
he’d buy a railway ticket and—" 

“He’d go to London and stand up all night to see the 
Procession." Tony smiled now that Father had all the 
details. 

“So that’s it!" Father chuckled and turned to Mother, 
whose eyes rested first on the boy, then on the girl as they 
finished their tale. 

“Of course we’ll take him to Stratford. But you know," 
Father looked through the window to the rows of bloom¬ 
ing plants, “I have my garden to attend to just now. But 
we’ll manage somehow," he assured them, and finished 
his tea. 

“When will the models be ready?" Mother asked. 

“They’re finished now," Tony answered eagerly. 

“But we can find out, just to be sure." Ann offered will¬ 
ingly. “We’ve got Old John’s basket to take back to him." 
She smiled as Cook entered the room to clear the table. 
“He put some cress in it for us." 

“Come along now." Father pushed back his chair. 
“We’ll go and see Peter. Then I must water the garden 
before it gets too dark." 


34 


“Dad! ” Tony called, as they walked through the kitchen, 
where Tuppence was eating his supper from a tin plate, 
“Tuppence has some new tricks.” 

Mother smiled happily, and watched them cross the yard 
in the early twilight. 

In the dairy Peter was busy straining pails of foamy 
milk. He looked up as Father entered the large cool room. 
On seeing Tony and Ann, a broad grin spread across his 
kind face. “I thought I was going to have some help,” he 
teased. 

“We’ll help now.” Tony beckoned to Ann. 

Carefully they lifted the bucket, and slowly emptied its 
contents into a large strainer. They listened to the gurgling 
sound of the milk as it trickled through the first sieve to 
the two smaller ones, and settled in the large container 
beneath them. 

“A good supply of milk today,” Peter said to Father. 
“Twenty'one gallons I believe, all told.” He looked at 
Tony and Ann. “And I’ve got something to show you.” 

“What is it?” Ann asked. 

“It’ll have to wait until I’m finished here.” Peter pointed 
to the three pails of foamy milk. 

“Peter,” Father asked, “do you need anything from 
Stratford?” 

Breathlessly Tony and Ann waited for the reply. 

“Let me think. Now, let me think.” The farm hand 
scratched his head. “I don’t need anything just now, ex' 
cept,” he hesitated, “to take Mr. Fairchild his order of 
potatoes, but he won’t need them for a fortnight or so.” 

“A fortnight or so.” Tony gulped in disappointment. 


35 


Two weeks seemed like much too long a time to wait. 

"But I never know,” Peter added casually, and turned 
to his work. 

"When you do go,” Father said cheerfully, "you'll have 
another passenger, perhaps three!” He winked at the chil- 
dren. "Old John, Anthony and Ann have something im- 
portant—very important—to attend to. So save room 
for them! ” 

"Old John?” Peter stared inquisitively. "Now what can 
be taking him to Stratford?” He scratched his head again. 

"It’s a secret,” Father grinned. "But you'll soon know, 
doubtless very soon. And now I must get on.” He chuck¬ 
led softly to himself as he turned toward the garden. 

"Daddy!” Ann called after him. "Daddy!” 

Father turned. 

"Let's keep it a secret. Between the six of us,” she sug¬ 
gested, excited at the thought. 

"The six of us!” Father exclaimed, laughing. 

"Yes, six. You, Mummy, Tony, Peter, Old John, and 
me!” 

Father patted the curly brown head. "Of course we 
will! ” 

"Peter,” Ann announced, as she skipped back into the 
room, "it's to be a secret just between us.” 

Peter listened, nodding, while Ann and Anthony told 
him the mystery about Old John and his errand to Stratford. 

"So that's it.” He smiled when they finished. 

"You'll take us to Stratford, won't you?” Tony asked. 

"Indeed I will,” the man answered. "But come along 
now. I've something to show you.” 


36 



Early twilight in the farmyard 

























As Ann and Tony stepped through the doorway, Peter 
reached for two rubber-tipped feeding bottles and thrust 
them hurriedly into his pocket, then followed the boy and 
girl into the yard. 

At the cowshed they stopped. 

“It’s another new calf!” Tony was thrilled at the 
thought. 

“Well, we’ll soon see.” Peter smiled to himself as he 
led them past empty stalls until he came to the end of the 
shed. “Look over there—in that comer,” he pointed. 
“They’re yours.” 

“Mine! ” Ann trembled as she stepped to the closed com' 
partment and peered over the top. “Lambs! Two of them,” 
she cried in surprise at the sight of the small, woolly ani' 
mals, lying on a bed of straw. 

“Lambs in a cowshed!” Tony laughed. “And I thought 
it was a new calf.” 

“That’s a secret for you! ” Peter grinned. “They’ve been 
here three weeks.” 

“Three weeks?” Tony exclaimed. “And I never found 
them! But who would have thought to look for lambs 
in a cowshed?” He chuckled at the idea. 

Peter opened the gate and motioned to Ann. “Feed them 
slowly,” he directed, as he handed the girl the bottles of 
milk. 

Quietly Ann approached the fleecy creatures and knelt 
beside them, offering each a bottle. 

“They’re drinking it,” Tony whispered excitedly, and 
watched the liquid getting lower and lower. 

“Thank you ever so much. They’re darlings.” Ann 


38 


turned gratefully toward the farm hand standing near. 

As they started out of the shed, Tony suddenly spoke 
up: “Ann, you could enter them in the parade at Shipston 
on May Day. I’m going to enter Tuppence, you know,” 
he added proudly. 

“The May Day parade,” Ann murmured dreamily. Her 
thoughts flew to the program posted in the schoolroom 
announcing the events for children that would take place 
at the May Day Celebration in the nearby village. “Tony,” 
she cried, with a sudden inspiration. “I’ll train the lambs 
to follow on a lead, like Tuppence. And, I’ll call them— 
oh, Tony, what shall I call them? You think of such good 
names always.” 

Tony laughed at Ann’s bewildered face. “They’re yours,” 
he said. “You named all your other pets, and you can name 
these, too. I had enough trouble to find a name for Tup- 
pence!” He turned to the frisky terrier bounding toward 
them. 

“My chicken was Betty,” Ann said aloud as she and Peter 
walked up the path. 

“Your pig—Curly,” the man helped her out. 

“My cats—Jug and Bottle, and—” Just then Ann’s foot 
caught in a twig. 

Peter reached out a helping hand, but was too late. 

Head over heels Ann rolled on the soft grass and bumped 
her head against the side wall of the shed. 

“Jack fell down 

And broke his crown—” 

Tony shouted, running up just as Peter helped her to her 
feet. 


39 


“Peter!" Ann smiled suddenly through misty eyes. “That 
made me think of it.” She brushed back a tear that trickled 
down her cheek. “I'm going to call them Jack and Jill!” 

“Fancy that," Peter chuckled as they started toward the 
house. “That'll be a fine name for them." And he chuckled 
again. 













Chapter III 

ANTHONY AND PETER 

The days flew swiftly by. Saturday came around almost 
before the children knew it. Ann sat up in bed that monv 
ing and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Quickly she shoved 
bare feet into slippers and reached for a dressing gown. She 
thrust her head through the window. “Today, well know 
whether you go to London! ” she thought to herself, as she 
gazed at Father's flowers, still wet from an early morning 
rain. 


41 









“Maa—aaa! Maa—aa!” Jack and Jill bleated hungrily 
from their stall in the cowshed. “Maa—aa!” they called 
again. 

“I’m coming! I’m coming! ” Ann answered, as she turned 
to dress. 

At the far end of the passageway a tap, tap, tapping on 
Tony’s windowpane awakened him. He lay listening. The 
tapping sounded again, and Tuppence, curled on the eider- 
down, gave a low growl. Tony jumped out of bed and 
opened the window wider. “Peter! ” he called to the farm 
hand in the yard below. 

Peter raised a finger to his lips, then whispered, “Pm go¬ 
ing to Chipping Campden. If you hurry you can come, 
too. Prince needs new shoes.” The big brown Shire cart 
horse, pride of the farm, stood shifting his enormous, heav¬ 
ily feathered legs as he waited in the yard. 

“Pll be ready in five minutes.” Tony whistled cheerfully 
as he slipped his sturdy legs into a pair of grey flannel 
shorts; while Tuppence, stretched out on the floor, cocked 
his head to one side and watched him eagerly. 

Hurriedly Tony ate his breakfast. He pulled a dark blue 
peaked cap from his blazer pocket and hastened into the 
yard with Tuppence beside him. Halfway down the path, 
he stopped, for he saw Ann with a double lead rope in one 
hand guiding the lambs, and clutching two empty feed 
bottles in the other. “What are you doing up so early?” 
he asked inquisitively. 

“Don’t you know what day today is?” Ann answered. 

“Stupid! Saturday of course. There’s no school—and 
I’m going to Chipping Campden with Peter. And now I’ve 


42 


got to hurry! " he said in a very businesslike manner. “But 
I say, Ann,” he faced the girl, “look after Tuppence for 
me, will you?” He ran to join the farm hand, who was 
leading out a big black horse hitched to a welbfilled wagon. 

“Tony's forgotten all about Father and his flowers, and 
for once I'll know something before he does." Ann smiled 
to herself as she followed her brother. 

“Peter," Tony exclaimed, “you're going to the station 
too!" He grinned, seeing the large wooden boxes holding 
pats of freshly churned country butter. Each crate had a 
printed label nailed to it. 

“Now, who's stupid?" Ann chuckled, as she stood beside 
him. “The station's at Campden, isn't it?" 

“I'll make room back here for you." Peter moved two 
boxes forward. 

“I say, Peter, let me ride up in front with you," Tony 
put in. “I'll watch Prince. He'll be all right tied there." 
He pointed to the stout frame side of the wagon. 

Peter nodded a bit doubtfully as he tied the horse to the 
cart, thinking it would be safer for the boy to hold Prince 
by the reins, at the back of the wagon. 

But Tony had already climbed the hub of the wheel, and 
was waiting on the front seat. 

“All ready now?" the man asked. 

“No, no. Let me down. I forgot something." Tony 
ran back into the house. From a small bank he took two 
silver coins and tucked them safely in his pocket. He dashed 
back calling, “Now I'm ready." 

“Come along, Darby." Peter gave the horse his head. 

Tony turned to Ann and called, “Don't forget Tuppence." 


43 


The girl nodded. 

As they drove along the road, shaded by tall leafy beech 
trees the soft damp morning air touched their faces. 
Through the foliage Tony and Peter could see Father's 
large kitchen garden, where cabbages, spinach, potatoes, 
carrots, parsley, asparagus, lettuce, tomatoes, and rhubarb 
were planted. Some of the plants were already well above 
the ground. The gooseberry, the black and red currant 
bushes that bordered the neat rows in the carefully kept 
garden were thick with young leaves. 

"Keep an eye on Prince," Peter warned. 

"He's all right!" Tony glanced back. "Look, Peter!" 
He displayed the coins. "I'm going to buy a new ball for 
Tuppence; and for Ann a double lead of red, white and 
blue leather for Jack and Jill. This is my birthday money. 
Dad gave me four shillings and this is what I have left." 
Tony spoke proudly. He slid the silver back into his pocket. 

As they turned a bend in the road, he glanced back at 
the old farm house with its windows divided into lights by 
stone mullions, and the creeping japonica growing on its 
front walls. The fresh spring flowers in the rockery showed 
gaily as they swayed in the breeze. Tony's eyes wandered 
from one to another of the many outbuildings—the dairy, 
the cowshed, the bam, the pig stye, the lambing cub, the 
cottage. Each building was built of grey limestone from the 
Gloucestershire quarries, like the walls enclosing the farm 
and separating the meadows. The black corrugated iron 
roof of the tall rickyard, halhfilled with last season's hay, 
looked blacker than ever as it towered above the grey stone 
roofs of the other farm buildings. 


44 



The farm buildings 

















"Peter, there 're Walter and Toby going to count the 
sheep!" Tony broke the silence, at sight of the shepherd 
with his long crook and his dog at his heels, just entering 
a field where sheep were grazing in the young grass. 

"Good old Toby! He's one of the best dogs in these 
parts," Peter remarked. 

Nearing a large plantation of young oak trees, Peter 
stopped the wagon. "You'd better get back now and hold 
Prince's reins. We'll soon reach the main road." 

"Wait until we pass the crossroad," Tony pleaded. "I'm 
watching him all right." 

Tony looked back every now and then at the horse. 
"Look, Peter, look," he exclaimed when they turned in at 
the crossroads. A group of dark-skinned men, women and 
children were coming toward them. 

"Gypsies!" Peter muttered. He turned Darby to the 
roadside and glanced back at Prince. 

Boys and girls with faces as brown as fir cones skipped 
and danced beside their mothers and fathers. Four big 
wagons, pulled by thickset horses, followed. A white 
shaggy dog trotted close to a small girl. 

"Good morning." Peter greeted a gypsy near his cart. 

"Good morning," the man responded cheerfully. 

"Listen." Peter's face was suddenly wreathed in smiles. 
Music and song came from one of the wagons. The boyish 
treble of a gypsy lad, singing to the accompaniment of a 
concertina, drifted toward them. 

"Let's stay awhile and listen," Peter said. "See there." 
He pointed enthusiastically to a circle of children dancing 
to the gay melody that filled the air. 


46 


“No, no. Let’s go on,” Tony urged. He felt the coins 
in his pocket, and thought of the toys and leather goods 
in the shops. He could hear concertina music and see danc' 
ing at school any time. There were many more interesting 
things to see in the village. Why stop to listen to a young 
gypsy boy with a concertina? “I’ve been waiting for days 
to buy Tuppence a new ball and surprise Ann with a lead 
for Jack and Jill! Come on, Peter, please,” he pouted. 

But Peter was still watching the gypsy boy. “I like the 
way he sings. And his music is good.” Peter tossed him 
a coin. 

The boy in the wagon put his concertina on the seat. 
As he jumped to the ground he cried out. Tears streamed 
down his face as he picked up the coin. He tried to stand, 
winced and sank to the ground. 

“Get up! ” shouted the gypsy man. “That’s no way for 
a boy to act.” 

The lad wiped his teanstained face and pulled himself 
up by the wagon wheel. Gritting his teeth, he lowered his 
leg slowly to the ground, but could not put any weight on 
it. He dropped again to the grass. 

Peter handed Tony the reins. “Keep an eye on Prince,” 
he cautioned, as he jumped from the cart and hurried to the 
gypsy boy. 

“Peter, Peter,” Tony cried out impatiently. “We’ve got 
to hurry. They’ll take care of him. Come on, Peter.” 

“You’ve twisted your ankle badly,” Peter told the boy 
as he felt his foot. “It’s none too good. It’ll have to be 
bandaged!” And Peter began tearing his handkerchief into 
strips. 


47 


“It hurts !” The boy pointed to the swelling, trying to 
smile through his tears. 

‘Til have it fixed in no time,” Peter comforted him, as 
he carefully bound the ankle. 

“Thank you! It feels better already!” The boy gave 
him a grateful look as he stood up and lowered his leg 
slowly to the ground. 

“Peter!” Tony shouted. “Please come on!” 

“Pm coming!” The farm hand patted the gypsy boy's 
curly black head, then climbed up beside Tony. “I say, he's 
a plucky little fellow,” Peter commented, as he reached for 
the reins. 

As they turned on the main road Peter brought the 
wagon to a stop. “Tony,” he turned to the boy, “it's time 
now for you—” The man turned round. “Prince has gone!” 
he cried out desperately. 

“Gone?” Tony couldn't believe his eyes. But it was true. 
The big, brown Shire horse had disappeared. 

Peter led Darby to the side of the road and tied him fast 
to a gate. “Don't move from that wagon,” he told the boy 
sternly. 

Then he ran back over the road to the spot where the 
gypsies had stopped. He looked left and right, and down 
the road after the disappearing caravan. “That's odd! Very 
odd!” he muttered, perplexed, staring closely at the welh 
trodden ground. 

“Prince! Prince!” he shouted hopefully, recognizing the 
horse's footprints in the grass. He quickened his pace down 
a lane to a clearing where he could once more see the iim 
pressions on the ground. Again and again he called, but 


48 



Peter brought the wagon to a stop 








there was no sound. Seriously worried, Peter hurried back 
to the wagon. 

"Where’s Prince?” Tony’s voice trembled. "Didn’t you 
find him?” 

"Gone. No trace of him.” 

"What will you do?” Tears streamed down the boy’s 
frightened face. "If I’d only held on to him as you said, 
and watched him instead of the gypsy boy. Oh, Peter! 
What will you do?” 

"We’ll just have to report it as we go along and leave 
word for those coming this way.” 

"It’s my fault. What will Dad say?” Tony gulped anx- 
iously. 

A frightened boy and a distressed man drove along the 
road together. At the blacksmith’s they heard the ring of 
the anvil and saw the slow-burning fire in the forge. 

"Sam,” Peter called excitedly to the blacksmith, "I’ve lost 
Prince, the brown cart horse you shod a few months back. 
Leave word with anyone going back to the farm, will you?” 

"Lost Prince?” the blacksmith exclaimed in surprise. "But 
how? Was he stolen, or did he get away?” 

"That’s what I’m trying to make out,” Peter answered. 
"He must have come untied. I looked down the lane near 
the crossroads, his tracks were there, but no horse.” 

"I’ll pass word on,” the blacksmith answered. "Chances 
are he’s just run off.” 

Tony turned his head away. Mist clouded his eyes. 

At the station Tony stared past Peter and the porter, as 
they lifted the crates of butter on to the scale. "If Prince 
would only turn up,” he sighed. 


50 


“Well be back for the bill and if you hear anything of a 
stray brown carthorse let me know. I've lost one.” Peter 
told his story again. 

“That I will.” The porter turned toward the office. 

“Come along now.” Peter gave Darby his head, then 
glanced at the downcast boy beside him. “Well go and buy 
that lead and the ball you wanted.” 

“No, Peter! Let's go back and look for Prince! Tup- 
pence can wait for his ball.” 

“But how about Ann's present?” Peter shortened the 
reins as they neared a window full of leather goods. 

In the shop Tony selected a double lead of red, white and 
blue twisted leather. He handed the owner the two silver 
coins and waited impatiently for the parcel and change. 

“Now for the ball.” Peter tried to be cheerful as Tony 
climbed up beside him. 

“No. I want to get back. I don't need it.” Tony turned 
to Peter, who was munching an apple. 

“Here's one for you!” Peter offered Tony the fruit. 

“Thank you.” Tony accepted it listlessly. 

Stopping at the station Peter inquired, as the portei 
handed him the butter bill, “Any news of the horse?” 

“Nothing at all.” The porter shook his head. 

“Poor Prince,” Tony sighed. “I wonder if we'll ever 
find him. What will Dad say?” he asked himself over and 
over as Darby pulled them slowly up the hill. 

When they reached the blacksmith's, Peter asked about 
Prince. 

“Not a word about him since you were here,” the black¬ 
smith answered sympathetically. 


51 


Clump, clump, sounded Darby’s hoofs over the hard 
stone road, as he quickened his pace. Anxiously and still 
frightened, Tony glanced about him. 

As they neared the spot where he had first searched for 
the horse, Peter slowed Darby up. 

“Look, Peter,” Tony shouted, standing up in the wagon. 
“Look, coming down the road. It’s the gypsy boy and—” 

“Prince!” The farm hand jumped to the ground and 
ran to the limping boy who was leading the horse. Tony 
followed. 

“Where did you find him?” Peter panted. 

The young brown face smiled. “We started to camp in 
the woods and he came up to us. I knew it was the horse 
tied behind the wagon. My foot,” he added, slowly extend' 
ing his leg, “is better now. You helped me and—” 

“Here, take these coppers.” Tony thrust the change into 
the boy’s hand. 

“No, no, I can’t take them,” and the gypsy boy held out 
the money. “You were good to me and—” 

“Of course you must keep them, and here’s another.” 
Peter laid a small silver one in his hand and reached for 
Prince’s halter. “Come along, Prince, you’ll have to wait 
until Monday for new shoes.” 

As the farm hand led the horse to the back of the wagon 
Tony turned around. “The gypsy boy’s gone.” 

“Back to his caravan in the woods,” Peter told him. 

Quickly Tony climbed up the rear wheel. He grabbed 
Prince’s leading rein. “I’ll hold you every step of the way 
now,” he promised, and clutched the leather tightly. 

“Hello, Tony,” Ann cried happily, when Peter turned 


52 


Darby into the yard. She waved a yellow slip of paper. 
"Daddy's got the order. Uncle James telegraphed. Daddy's 
going to Stratford next week for more boxes. We're going 
with him. And he's taking Old John," she ended breath¬ 
lessly. 

"Dad got the order?" Tony stared. He still held Prince's 
reins. "You mean for the Coronation?" 

"Of course that's what I mean." 

"Think of it, Peter!" Tony's eyes were bright with ex¬ 
citement as the farm hand relieved him of Prince. 

"You forgot something." Peter nodded toward the front 
seat of the wagon. 

"Here, Ann, here," and Tony thrust the parcel into the 
girl's hands. 

Quickly she opened it. "Tony! Oh, Tony, thank you! 
Jack and Jill will wear it in the Maypole Celebration." She 
gave her brother a big hug. 

Tony's face was scarlet as he pushed Ann aside. "Save 
that for Jack and Jill!" He turned and dashed toward the 
house shouting, "Dad! Where are you?" 



'VN 



OLD JOHN 

Gently Ann coaxed Jack and Jill over the little wooden 
bridge on to the path leading to Old John's cottage. 

Tony followed, carrying Tuppence under one arm. A 
basket, containing a mold of cream cheese and some fresh' 
ly made currant buns, was on the other. 

At the cottage, Ann peered through the window. “Old 
John's not at home," she said disappointedly. 

Tony thrust his head through the doorway to make sure, 
then walked into the empty room. “We'll leave it here." 
He set the basket on the table. 


54 






“But the message.” Just at that moment the back door 
opened. 

“Here he is, after all,” Tony cried, as the old sailor came 
in. 

“Bless me! Anthony and Ann Edwards.” Old John 
grinned, pleased. 

“We've brought your basket. And Jack and Jill are here. 
Peter gave them to me,” Ann told him, pointing to the 
lambs where they stood tied outside the door. 

“And Tuppence, too,” Tony added. 

“Cook sent these.” Ann reached for the parcels. 

“She never forgets.” The seaman smiled as he thought 
of the kindly woman, never too busy to remember him. 

Tony’s voice rang through the small room: “We’ve got 
a message, too!” 

“A message! Now, bless me, what can that be?” He 
motioned to two stools near him. 

“Dad—” Tony started. 

“Let me tell it. You promised,” Ann interrupted. 

“All right, then, go ahead, but get on with it.” 

“Daddy sent word to tell you that he’s going to Stratford 
one day next week. He’s going to take you, your models, 
and Tony and me,” Ann cried excitedly. 

“To Stratford? I’m to take my models to Stratford?” 
Old John stared at them both. 

“To Mr. Williams’ shop. Don’t you remember?” Tony 
asked. 

“Of course I do.” Old John nodded and smiled. He 
walked toward the old sea chest, Ann and Anthony fob 
lowing. 


55 


“I've had them ready—just in case there was a chance 
of getting there.” He lifted the cover and showed them 
the little box holding the carved figures, all safely wrapped 
in a cloth. 

“And Dad got the Coronation flower order from Uncle 
James,” Tony announced proudly. 

“Fine, indeed!” Old John exclaimed, elated over the 
news. He started toward his chair. “And now, what 
about Tuppence and his tricks?” 

Tony smiled as he held a biscuit over the dog's head. 
“Roll over, sit up, beg and salute!” he commanded gently. 
“Then it's yours.” 

“How did you ever get him to do it?” And Old John 
shook with laughter when the dog had finished. 

“Practice!” Tony boasted, dropping the biscuit into Tup- 
pence's mouth. 

“And what can Jack and Jill do?” Old John turned to 
Ann. 

“Not very much,” she sighed. 

“They can follow her on a lead. Show Old John,” Tony 
urged. 

Ann walked down the step into the yard to unfasten the 
double rope. “Come on, Jack and Jill, we're going,” she 
called. 

“Maa—aaa!” the lambs answered, trotting behind their 
mistress. 

“Well, of all things!” Old John clapped vigorously. 
“You've certainly got them well trained, very well indeed.” 
He applauded again. 

“Ann's going to enter them in the May Day Celebration 


56 



‘Maa — aaa!” the lambs answered, trotting behind 
their mistress 














at Shipston, and I’m showing Tuppence, 1 ’ Tony said, as the 
girl came back into the room. 

"They’ll make a fine showing,” Old John assured them. 

"I say, Old John,” Tony’s eyes wandered to the sea chest, 
"how much is the fare to London and return?” 

"Thirty shillings,” Old John answered. He took down 
a portfolio from the shelf over the table. 

Anthony and Ann looked eagerly. What could be in it? 
They had noticed the folder before, but had never seen 
inside. 

As Old John opened the leather case, the children moved 
their stools closer. 

"These belonged to my great'great'grandfather.” Old 
John gently fingered a packet of colored pictures. 

Awed, they looked at the paintings of ancient kings, cas- 
ties, fortresses, churches, lakes, mountains, birds, beasts, 
gardens, monks, knights, fairies and elves, as Old John 
slowly and carefully turned the pages. Each picture told 
a story. 

"I like that one the best!” Ann said emphatically, as she 
gased at a fiddler with his bow drawn across his violin. 
The moon was full in the background and a circle of little 
men danced around him on the grass. 

"That picture has a very old story connected with it,” 
Old John said. 

"Tell it to us. Do tell it to us,” Ann pleaded. 

"That I will,” Old John smiled, looking at the eager faces 
beside him. Then he began: 

"Many, many years ago, there was a farmer’s son who 
had not an ounce of harm in him, and not too much good 


58 


either. He always meant to do well, but he had a queer 
way about him, and he was very fond of idle company. 

“One day his father sent him to market with five sheep 
to sell. When the lad had sold the animals, instead of com' 
ing straight home as he was told, he stayed the day in the 
village until evening. When he started home, many offered 
him a ride in their carts. 

“ 'Thank you kindly all the same," he said to all, 'but Fm 
going back across the fields with Limping Tim." 

''Now Limping Tim was a fiddler, and a worthless chap, 
and all who heard, warned the boy against going with him. 
'Go by the mainroad and leave the fiddler alone F they 
advised, for they knew that Limping Tim fiddled for his 
livelihood, and what other money he earned he squandered 
foolishly. And they were well acquainted with the sheep 
path over the hills. For they knew that it led past a big 
fairy ring, so near the path that anyone might brush it with 
the end of his cloak as he turned the brow of the hill. 

''The lad paid no attention whatsoever to the advice of 
his elders, and started out to cross the hills. Limping Tim 
carried his fiddle in his hand and a bundle of marketings 
under his arm. 

“As they walked, the fiddler sang snatches of strange 
songs, the like of which the lad had never heard before. 

“The moon shone down on them, casting shadows over 
the short grass, until they were as long as the great stone 
walls round here. 

“At last they turned the hill. The fairy ring looked dark 
under the moon. Cautiously the lad walked to the side of 
the path, and kept his eyes glued on the road in front of him. 


59 


"Limping Tim suddenly pulled his own cloak from his 
back and handed it to the lad. 'Hold this a moment , 1 he 
cried, Tm wanted. They're calling me . 1 

" 'I hear nothing , 1 the lad exclaimed, as he paused to lis¬ 
ten. He turned around to face the-fiddler, but Limping 
Tim had disappeared. 

"The boy shouted, but in vain. He thought of starting 
on alone. He put one foot forward and stopped. 

" 'Catch ! 1 he heard the fiddler's voice ring out, though 
never a sight of the man himself could he see. And there 
came flying from the direction of the fairy ring the bundle 
of marketings which he had been carrying. 

"'It's in my way. Ah, this is dancing! Come in, lad. 
Come in , 1 Limping Tim's voice shouted joyfully. 

"But the boy took care to keep at a safe distance from 
the fairy ring. 

" 'Come back, Tim, come back," he pleaded. 

"At last, when Tim refused to answer, he started on his 
way, but stopped, for he heard Limping Tim's voice calling 
out of the dark: 'Take care of this for me. The coins jingle 
and dance in my pocket . 1 

"Surprised, the lad saw the fiddler's purse flying through 
the air, and as it dropped at his feet it rattled and clinked 
with gold. 

"He picked it up and called again to Limping Tim, beg' 
ging him to be on his way. 

"Finally, when the fiddler did not appear, the lad took the 
path in front of him. As he walked, carrying Limping Tim's 
possessions, he hoped that Tim would soon follow to claim 
them. But the fiddler never came. 


60 


“When the people of the village had searched carefully 
and learned that Limping Tim was missing, a great blame 
was cast on the lad. For they said he was the last to be 
seen in his company. 

“The boy began to fear and was still more afraid to tell 
the truth of the matter. 'Who knows," he said to himself, 
'but they may think I stole his belongings. Fd better do 
away with them. No, IT1 hide them," said he. And when 
night came he carried the bundle of marketings, the cloak 
and the money bag and carefully hid them in the garden. 

“When three months had passed and still the fiddler did 
not return, the people of the village searched the lad's home. 
'Surely he must have his things," they said. 

“ 'Just as we thought," they cried, when they found the 
bundle, the money bag and the cloak. 

And the lad was taken off to prison. 

“Now, when it was much too late, he plucked up courage 
and told the truth. But no one believed him. They all said 
that he had done away with the fiddler for the sake of his 
money and goods. 

“And when the lad was taken before the judge he was 
found guilty and sentenced to death. 

“Fortunately his mother was a wise woman, and when 
she heard that her son was blamed and such a sentence put 
on him, she told the lad, 'Only follow my directions, and 
we may save you yet. For I have guessed how it is." 

“So she went to the judge and begged for three favors 
before her son must go. 

" 'I will grant them," the judge consented, 'if you do not 
ask that his life be spared." 


61 


“ The first,’ the mother said, ‘is that he may choose his 
own place where the gallows shall be erected. The second, 
that he may fix the hour of his going. And the third favor 
I ask is that you will not fail to be present.’ 

“ ‘I grant your wishes,’ the judge said. But when he 
learned the lad had chosen a certain hill for the gallows, 
and the hour one just before midnight, he sent word for 
the constable to accompany him on this important occasion. 

“The constable placed himself at the judge’s disposal, but 
commanded the presence of the gaoler for his own pn> 
tection. 

“And the gaoler, for his part, implored the curate to be 
of the party, as the hill was not in good spiritual standing. 

“So when the time came, the four started together. 

“The hangman and the lad went before them to the foot 
of the gallows. 

“Just as the rope was being prepared the lad called to the 
judge and said, ‘If Your Honor will walk twenty paces down 
the hill, you will find a bit of paper and learn the fate of 
the fiddler.’ 

“ ‘It is no doubt a last message from Limping Tim,’ the 
judge thought as he started out. 

“Through his mother’s bidding the boy had dropped the 
paper as he came along in such a place that the judge could 
not pick it up without putting his foot on the edge of the 
fairy ring. 

“No sooner had the judge reached the spot, and set his 
foot inside the ring, when he saw a company of little peo' 
pie two feet high, with aged faces as brown as berries, 
squinting horribly as they danced round and round in a 


62 


circle as wide as the fairy ring itself. Their green costumes 
and hoods were just a shade darker than the grass over 
which they tripped. 

“ "Mr. Constable! Mr. Constable! ’ the judge cried, ‘come 
and see the dancing and hear the music. It makes the soles 
of my feet tickle and I can’t keep them still! ’ He shouted 
with laughter. 

“ ‘There is no music, Your Honor!' said the constable, 
running down the hill. ‘It surely must be the wind you hear, 
whistling through the trees.’ 

“But when the constable put his own foot over the edge 
of the fairy ring he, too, saw the little people, and heard 
the music and he called to the gaoler to be quick and come 
down. ‘I should like you to be a witness,’ he said. ‘You 
can take hold of my arm, for the music makes me feel 
unsteady.’ 

“ ‘There is no music, sir,’ the gaoler said, ‘but doubtless 
you hear the creaking of the gallows.’ 

“But no sooner had the gaoler’s feet touched the fairy 
ring than he saw and heard just the same as the others. 
He called loudly to the curate to come and listen. 

“ ‘I don’t understand! ’ the curate exclaimed as he ap¬ 
proached. ‘There is not a sound but the distant croaking of 
frogs.’ 

“But no sooner had he touched the ring than he saw 
and heard what the rest of them did. 

“At this moment the moon rose to its height and in the 
middle of the ring they saw Limping Tim dancing away 
as he played. 

“‘Ah, you rascal!’ the judge cried. ‘So this is where 


65 


you’ve been all the time, and a better man than you as 
good as hanged for you. But you shall come now." And 
the judge ran toward him and seized the fiddler’s arm. 

“But Limping Tim resisted so that the constable had to 
go to the judge’s aid. 

“Then the mischievous elves pinched and hindered the 
constable so that he had to call to the gaoler to put his 
arms about his waist. 

“And then the gaoler called to the curate to add to the 
strength of the string. 

“While they continued to struggle with the fiddler and 
with one another, an elf picked up Limping Tim’s fiddle. 
And when he started fiddling, everyone began to dance— 
the judge, the constable, the gaoler, the fiddler and even 
the curate himself. 

“ 'Hangman! Hangman! ’ the judge screamed, 'The lad 
is pardoned. The both of you come down and catch hold 
of his reverence, the curate.’ 

“The lad followed and warned the hangman not to touch 
the ring, but directed him to stretch his hands forward in 
hopes of catching hold of someone. 

“In a few minutes the wind blew the curate’s coat against 
the hangman’s fingers and he caught hold of it. 

“Quickly the boy clasped his hands around the hang- 
man’s waist. Then each held firmly to the other: the fiddler, 
the judge, the constable, the gaoler, the curate, the hang- 
man and the boy, until they were all safely out of the 
charmed circle. 

“ 'Oh, you scoundrel! ’ the judge cried, as they stood well 
outside the ring. 'I have a good mind to have you hanged.’ 


64 



‘When he started fiddling, everyone began to dance’ 








“But the fiddler, bewildered, only stared at the judge. 
Then he fell to scolding the lad roundly for not having the 
patience to wait three minutes for him. 

“Three minutes!' the boy exclaimed. “Why, you've 
been here three months and a day.' 

“ fc It can't be true! It can't be!' Limping Tim whined 
as they led him away. 'I want my fiddle,' he cried, and tried 
to turn back toward the fairy ring. But the constable and 
the gaoler held him tight. 

“When the village folk learned all that had happened, 
they watched over Limping Tim day and night, lest he give 
them the slip again. But one day he escaped and wandered 
over the hills to seek his fiddle, and they never saw him 
again. 

“And the lad, it is said, from that time onward, whenever 
he was sent to the market, always returned by the main 
road and was never again seen to take the path over the 
hills by the fairy ring. 

“Some day,” Old John closed the portfolio, “when there's 
more time, I'll tell you about the others.” 

Reluctantly Anthony and Ann got up. Tony called to 
Tuppence. Ann reached for the lead. 

“Don't forget next week,” Tony said to Old John as they 
started up the path. 

“Indeed I won't.” Old John waved to them, and chuck¬ 
led to himself. Then he watched Ann leading Jack and Jill, 
and Tony with Tuppence wriggling under his arm, until 
they were all out of sight. 

“Ann, how much have you got saved?” Tony's voice 
was thoughtful. 


66 


"Only two shillings. How much have you?” 

"Only sixpence,” Tony’s voice was flat. He knew all 
along he shouldn’t have spent so much. But he was too 
distressed to think. 

"You spent a lot on me for Jack and Jill.” Ann tried to 
comfort her brother. 

Tony nodded. That was true. "I wish now I hadn’t,” 
he said, half to himself. He saw Prince grazing in a field. 
Prince had no such problems. "I wish I were Prince. . . 

"Wish you hadn’t what, and why do you want to be 
Prince?” 

"Hadn’t spent so much, so I could help Old John. Prince 
doesn’t have to worry—Ann, how can we get all that 
money, thirty shillings, so Old John can go to London?” 

But Ann couldn’t answer that question any more than 
he could. 



67 



Chapter V 

ADVENTURES IN SELLING 

Several afternoons later Tony and Ann, grasping leather 
book satchels, waited eagerly on the front steps of the 
school. 

Ann sighed impatiently as she watched the passing traffic. 
Each time a red car went by, disappointment showed in 
her face. “I do wish they'd hurry up and come," she said 
uneasily. 


68 


“So do I!" Tony stepped restlessly from the footpath to 
the road to get a better view. “Here they are. They're 
coming now," he shouted, recognising the family car. His 
father was steering it cautiously down the steep hill, and 
Old John was sitting next to him. In the rear seat Tuppence 
looked contentedly out of the window as the car rolled on. 

“Tuppence!" Tony cried happily to the terrier, as the 
car stopped and the children climbed in. 

The dog ran back and forth across the cushion, barking 
excitedly at his young master. 

“Down, Tuppence, down," Tony commanded. He 
reached for the lead and patted the animal's head to quiet 
him. 

“They're in here." Old John turned to smile back at the 
eager faces behind him as they started on. He held up a 
small wooden box. Carefully he raised the lid. 

Anthony and Ann leaned over to peer into the chest, 
with six carved models lying on a layer of cotton wool. 

“I hope you'll sell every one of them," Tony exclaimed. 

“So do I." Ann's voice was full of eagerness. 

As they sped along, the children waved to the village 
fiddler, standing in the doorway of his thatched grey stone 
cottage. They gazed with delight at fields turning gold with 
buttercups and white with daisies. The young wheat and 
grass were well above the ground. They saw farm hands 
walking behind ploughs and watched the heavy plowshares 
cut the soil and turn it over. They glimpsed men sowing 
seeds in lengthy tracks in the earth. They smiled to the 
chimney sweep on his bicycle, brushes and brooms hanging 
over his shoulders. They observed with keen interest the 


69 


pink and white buds on the hawthorn hedges along the 
roadside and in gardens, all ready to burst into flower. 

“We’re nearly there,’’ Ann called, as Father slowed the 
car near a stone bridge crossing the river Avon. 

“That’s the new Shakespeare Theatre, where I saw 
MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM last summer,” Tony 
boasted. He was pointing out a large imposing red brick 
building, its entrance facing a side street. 

“And when I get a few years older,” Ann added, smiling 
as she remembered Mother’s promise, “I’m going to see 
some of the plays there, too.” 

“It’s been market day,” Tony shouted, as they passed 
pens of unsold sheep, cattle and pigs. Owners waited im' 
patiently for last minute buyers. 

Father drove slowly up the busy main street, past the 
shops. Eagerly the children looked in at windows display' 
ing wearing apparel, boots and shoes, books, radios, china, 
souvenirs, sweets, vegetables, meats, and dairy produce. 

Father turned into a car park. “Let me see,” he pom 
dered. He glanced at his watch as the four of them, with 
Tuppence straining at his lead, now stood beside the locked 
car. “I’d better see to my flower boxes first. I’ll meet you 
in half an hour’s time in front of the Post Office.” He faced 
Old John. “Good luck!” He smiled encouragingly, and 
turned to walk away. 

The old man, his box hooked securely under one arm, 
walked between the two excited children. They did not 
linger, but went straightway to a shop which bore the sign: 
TOYS AND SOUVENIRS. 

Tony opened the door and they all went in. 


70 


“Good afternoon, Mr. Williams,’’ Tony said politely, as 
he went to the counter where the owner was standing. 

“Good afternoon,” the man replied cheerfully, recogniz- 
ing his customer and the terrier. “Have you come for am 
other toy for the dog?” 

“Not this time,” Tony answered. He nodded to Old 
John, who stood awkwardly holding his box. “He’s brought 
you some figures to sell.” 

“And what may they be?” Mr. Williams inquired. “Let 
me see them.” 

Old John displayed the little carved objects. 

“He made them himself,” Tony added proudly. 

“Their lines are very good!” Mr. Williams commented 
as he examined them. “I think I could sell them. I’ll give 
you two and six apiece.” 

“That makes fifteen shillings,” Tony reckoned to himself. 
And the half crown he and Ann had between them would 
only make seventeen and six. The return fare to London 
was one pound ten. Could Old John possibly make five 
more models in time? The coronation was only three and a 
half weeks off. 

“They took a very long time,” Old John explained pa- 
tiently. 

“They’re worth more,” Mr. Williams replied, “but that 
is all I can offer.” 

“I can't let them go for that,” Old John sighed, as he 
replaced the figures on the cotton wool. 

Disappointed, the three started toward the door. 

“If you don’t sell them,” Mr. Williams called, “Bring 
them back. I’ll always buy them.” 


71 


Outside, Tony's face brightened. "I know another shop. 
It's a very small one, but they may want them there. Let's 
try," he suggested, with fresh hope. 

As they stepped onto the footpath in front of the Post 
Office they saw Father coming out. 

"Well, how did it go?" he asked cheerfully. 

"Think of it, Dad!" Tony's voice was full of indignation, 
"Mr. Williams only wanted to give two and six apiece for 
them!" 

Father laughed at the boy's indignation. He proposed, 
"Perhaps Mr. Jones can use them. The town's full of visi- 
tors. Maybe something different might appeal to them. 
Anyhow, we'll go and see." 

"Here Ann, hold Tuppence!" Tony's fingers were 
cramped from clutching the lead. 

The girl reached for the strap but it slipped through her 
open fingers to the ground. 

With that, Tuppence dashed up the street and around 
the corner. 

Tony and Ann raced after him. 

"I don't see him. I don't see him anywhere!" Ann's 
eyes were misty. 

"He went that way!" Tony fought passers-by with 
sturdy arms, pushing one and jostling another, dodging 
from side to side as he hurried after the runaway terrier. 

Ann followed breathlessly. 

"Here he is!" Tony shouted, stooping to grab Tuppence's 
collar and bumping into an elderly gentleman at the same 
time. Dog and boy fell sprawling at the stranger's feet. 

The man laughed good-naturedly as he helped Tony up. 


72 



The old man walked between the two children 























“That’s a piece of luck!” he said. 

“Bad luck, you mean,” Tony told himself, thinking how 
near he came to losing Tuppence. 

“I’m looking for a wire-haired terrier, and here’s one 
right at my feet. Is he for sale?” 

“For sale? Tuppence for sale?” Tony exclaimed, horri¬ 
fied at the thought, as he picked the dog up and held him 
tightly in both arms. “Indeed he isn’t.” 

“Daddy knows where you can get one just like him!” 
Ann spoke up. “Here he comes now.” She pointed to 
Father and Old John hastening toward them. 

“Ralph Kendrick! What a fine surprise, and what are 
you doing in these parts?” Father greeted his friend cor¬ 
dially. 

“He’s looking for a dog like Tuppence,” Tony answered 
quickly. 

“For my nephew’s birthday present,” Mr. Kendrick ex¬ 
plained. “Can you tell me where to find one, just like him?” 
He rubbed Tuppence gently behind the ear. 

“He came from a kennel between here and Oxford. 
They’ve a fine selection.” Father wrote the name and ad¬ 
dress on a slip of paper. 

Tony set Tuppence on the sidewalk. He closed his fin¬ 
gers tightly over the dog’s lead, then faced Mr. Kendrick. 
“Some carved figures wouldn’t do instead of a dog, would 
they?” he ventured. 

“Carved figures?” Mr. Kendrick exclaimed in surprise. 

“Yes,” Tony said. His whole body tingled as he pointed 
to Old John, clutching his little wooden box. 

Father raised the lid. 


74 


“They’re a fine piece of workmanship. Excellent!” Mr. 
Kendrick examined the model ship. 

Anthony and Ann’s hearts skipped a beat. Was he 
going to buy or just look? 

“You know William Purdy?” Mr. Kendrick addressed 
Father. “He makes a hobby of collecting such ornaments 
as these. I would like him to see them.” He turned to Old 
John. “How much are they?” 

“Six shillings apiece,” Tony blurted out daringly, remem' 
bering Mr. Williams’ words, “They’re worth much more, 
really.” 

“Tony,” Ann whispered, as she reckoned quickly, “that’s 
one pound sixteen, for all of them. He’ll never give that 
much!” 

“They should bring every bit of that.” Mr. Kendrick 
fingered one model. He knew a fine piece of work when 
he saw it. He replaced the miniature ship in the box. 

“If he doesn’t buy them—” Old John’s voice was almost 
a whisper. 

“Then we’ll try Mr. Jones,” Father said cheerfully, as 
Old John handed over the chest. 

“Take good care of them. And you’ll send them back—” 
Old John gazed past the man. 

“To me,” Father finished. “I’m still at the farm.” 

“You’ll know for sure one way or the other by the first 
week in May.” Mr. Kendrick reached in his pocket. He 
unrolled a leather folder and carefully slipped the box into 
it. “They will be safe in here, no harm will come to them,” 
he assured Old John. He turned to Father. “I must be off. 
You know, it takes a long time to choose a dog as fine as 


75 


Tuppence.” He stooped to pat the terrier sniffing at his 
heels. 

“And now for an ice,” Father suggested, as they passed 
a sweet shop. Tony and Ann smiled approval. 

The two children, enjoying their slices of frozen vanilla 
cream between two thin crisp wafers, walked happily in 
front of Father and Old John. 

“Tony,” Ann chuckled, “one pound sixteen is a lot of 
money! ” 

“Well, Old John has to have some place to sleep too, 
doesn’t he?” Tony answered, though surprised at his own 
boldness. 

Back again in the car Father turned toward home. 

Ann leaned over Tuppence, curled on the cushion be- 
tween her and Tony. “If we could only win some of the 
money prises on May Day,” she whispered, “we could give 
that to Old John too, just in case,” she faltered, “Mr. Ken- 
drick doesn’t sell the models.” 

“We’ll just have to win something,” Tony answered 
emphatically. “I’ll work hard over Tuppence, and you’ll 
have to keep at Jack and Jill! ” 

“I will,” Ann assured him earnestly. 

When they came to the top of the long winding hill near 
the farm, Father brought the car to a stop. All four of them 
gazed across the valley. The clear day made it possible to 
see the five counties of Warwickshire, Worcestershire, 
Oxfordshire, Gloucestershire and Herefordshire. 

“If it continues warm like this we’ll soon be washing 
sheep,” Father announced to Old John. “Perhaps you’d 
like to come with us?” 


76 


Indeed I would,” Old John’s wrinkled face was full of 
little smiles. 'Its many a day since I last saw a real washing.” 

Think of it, Tony. Sheep washing! May Day Celebra^ 
tions! London and Coron—” Ann looked at the boy lost 
in thought. Then she gave him a poke. 

Tony jumped. CC I know, I know!” he grinned. “I was 
just thinking—” 

“Thinking of what?” Ann asked eagerly. 

“That it’s the most exciting spring I’ve ever had.” 

“And mine too.” Ann laughed. 

“For all of us.” Father turned to smile at the happy faces 
behind him. 





Chapter VI 
SHEEP WASHING 

The ruddy glow of the dawn was beginning to fade in 
the east as Anthony and Ann walked slowly with Old 
John and Father along the main road. 

In front of them three extra helpers in their oldest work' 
ing clothes, with Walter carrying his shepherd's crook, 
walked beside the large flock, the sheep looking big and 
fat in their heavy fleeces. Ahead of them they could see 
the backs of Peter and two other laborers carrying long, 
double'hooked sheep washing poles and leading the line of 
pattering hoofs. 


78 









"Look at Toby get that one." Tony was watching the 
easy way the collie guided a stray ewe back into place. 

As they neared the lambing cub, Anthony and Ann lin¬ 
gered to thrust their hands through the bars of the iron 
door and stroke the heads of two bleating lambs. 

"Too bad you can’t go too. But you’re too young yet to 
be washed,’’ Ann said sympathetically. The little animals 
rubbed their faces against the palm of her hand. 

"They’d only be in the way,’’ Tony added. He looked 
down the road past the flock. Peter and his assistants were 
turning into a lane. "I say, we’d better hurry!’’ He saw 
Peter reach for the bolt on the gate. 

Quickly the two of them caught up with Father and 
Old John. 

"When I was your age,’’ Old John smiled at them, "and 
I knew there was to be a sheep washing, I slept in the 
bam all night.’’ 

"Wasn’t it cold?’’ Ann exclaimed, wide-eyed. 

The old man laughed heartily. "Indeed, not. I always 
had company.’’ 

"What company!’’ Tony asked curiously. 

"The sheep dog, and a faithful one he was,’’ Old John 
answered. "He and I used to sleep side by side on a bed 
of straw and the warmth of his body kept me warm.’’ 

"Just like Tuppence,’’ Tony grinned. "He keeps my 
feet warm when he sleeps at the bottom of my bed.’’ 

"It’ll be good to see a washing again,’’ Old John re¬ 
marked to Father as they walked into a large field. 

"Tony,’’ and Father’s tone was firm, "you forgot some¬ 
thing.’’ 


79 


“I know.” The boy's big blue eyes danced mischievously. 
“Always leave a gate the way you found it.” He ran back 
to fasten the bolt. 

They followed the sheep through the pasture wet with 
the early morning dew. Ann skipped to one side of the 
flock to gather a bouquet of cowslips and daisies. Anthony 
saw a thrush take flight. At a hedge he looked into a 
newly built nest. 

When they had come to the end of another field the 
procession stopped. “Let them cool off,” Father directed, 
as the helpers divided the ewes from the rams and drove 
them gently into separate wooden pens. 

Toby stood on guard outside, ready to fetch back a stray. 

Anthony, Ann and Old John watched Father and Wal- 
ter as they moved slowly amongst the flock, examining 
eyes, cars, mouths and feet. 

“Walter's taking one out.” Ann pointed to the shepherd 
working his way with one woolly creature through the 
crowded fold to the opening. 

“A bad ear,” the man told them. He patted the animal 
as it trotted into the enclosed paddock beside the pens. 
Then he turned to finish his inspection. 

“A healthy flock,” Father commented, well pleased with 
the condition of his sheep, as he went to the side of the 
waterfall at the far end of the walled brook. 

Anthony, Ann, and Old John turned to hold the long- 
double-hooked poles of three helpers, who removed coats 
and rolled up shirt sleeves. Then they watched as one hur¬ 
ried through the enclosed paddock, past the lone sheep, 
and crossed the narrow end of the stream to. take his place 


80 



Walter moved slowly amongst the flock 












on the opposite side. Now he was facing his assistants. 

“Let’s sit here.” Ann indicated a stone wall. 

“A fine place indeed. And we can see everything.” Old 
John enthusiastically sat down between the boy and girl. 

“They’re going to begin to wash them now.” Tony 
looked with eager eyes, as Peter and two men led three 
ewes to the stone ledge. Each man slipped a hand under 
his charge’s neck to stand her up on her hind legs. With 
their free hands they took hold of the fleece in front of the 
animal’s tails to lift them into the air. Gently they tossed 
the struggling ewes into the water. 

“What a splash!” Tony laughed as the water rolled 
over the bank to the feet of the helpers. 

At once the ewes began to make their way toward the 
bank, but the men with their long poles reached quickly 
out to slip the hooked ends under their necks and bring 
them back. 

“They’re swimming. Look at them,” Ann cried excitedly, 
when she saw heads and bodies moving quickly near the 
surface. 

“That one’s trying to get out.” Old John motioned to 
one of the creatures as it got away. 

“He’s got her,” Tony clamored. The man quickly ex¬ 
tended his long pole and slipped the hook under the run¬ 
away’s neck. Although heavily soaked, the ewe was light 
in the water, and the helper turned her round with ease. 

Eagerly the children watched as the men pulled the ani¬ 
mals along the stream to hold them under the waterfall. 

“They’ll be good and clean after their shower baths,” 
Old John said. 


82 


“I should say so, 1 ’ Tony answered. His eyes were first on 
one man, then on another, as they pulled their charges back 
and forth under the forceful spray. 

“Look there. By Father ,’ 1 Ann shouted. A helper had 
one foot firmly planted against the side of the bank, his 
other leg stretched out on the wall. He held tightly to his 
pole, using every muscle in his sturdy arms, trying to steady 
a wriggling animal’s head from slipping out of the hook. 

“They’re finished with those.” Tony pointed to the ani- 
mals now swimming free toward the shallow end. 

They watched the ewes get their footing and pause to 
let the water drip from their bodies. One by one, looking 
very glad that the washing was over, they dragged them- 
selves to the side of the paddock near the lone sheep. 

“Maa—aa! Maa—aa!” The dry animal bleated a web 
come. 

“Listen to that noise!” Old John shook with laughter 
as the answering chorus of ma-aaas—waa—as’s drifted to 
them from the pens. 

“They’re beginning again.” Ann’s eyes were on Peter 
and two helpers as they threw three more sheep into the 
brook. 

As the animals continued to come into the enclosures, 
Anthony looked at their dripping bodies. He thought of 
their fleeces, full of oil and dirt, now thoroughly cleansed. 
When they were dry and some of the oil had returned, 
they would be shorn in the freshly swept and cleaned bam 
with its straw-covered floor. 

He remembered the sheep-shearing last year, and the 
shearers sitting upright on stools holding the sheep. How 


83 


evenly and skilfully they had clipped the wool off the 
fronts, sides and backs of the creatures. He saw again the 
look of satisfaction that spread across the men’s faces as 
they lifted away the fleeces, snow white inside, with their 
silvery lustre. He could see too, the fleeces laid out flat, 
skin side down, as the men trimmed them, putting any 
loose locks in the middle and folding in the two sides. 

When this was done they had started at the tail ends, 
rolling up the fleeces neatly and tightly until they arrived 
at the neck ends. Then they placed their knees on the rolls 
and with both hands pulled out the neck wool into a long 
rope to twist round the fleeces, tucking in the ends to make 
them fast. 

How soft the gleaming white bundles had felt as he and 
Ann carefully carried them to the chaff sheet. Here they 
had remained until Father took them to Chipping Camp- 
den, the seat of the English wool industry during the six¬ 
teenth and seventeenth centuries. In the old tithe bam 
the fleeces were then weighed and sold to the wool buyers 
who gathered here from many countries to buy. 

"Look, he’s fallen in!” Anthony jumped when he heard 
Ann shouting. 

Tony stared at the helper standing in the middle of the 
brook wiping the water from his eyes. 

"How did it happen?” 

Old John chuckled. "He was reaching to bring that ram 
back, but lost his footing and got a good soaking instead.” 

"Here are Mummy and Cook,” Ann cried at the sight 
of two women crossing the field. Each carried covered 
baskets. 


84 



/ 


“Look, he’s fallen in!” 









































"Hello, Mummy, 1 ’ Tony called out. He climbed the 
fence to follow Ann. 

"A second breakfast for everyone . 11 Mother stooped to 
spread a cloth on the ground under a large oak tree. 

When everything was ready and the cloth wrappings 
removed from the bottles of hot tea, Father and Old John 
joined them. 

"We’re about finished,” Father announced, as he turned 
to look at the nearly empty pens and the dripping sheep 
gathered in the enclosures. 

"I’m hungry,” Ann exclaimed, and took a sandwich. 

"So am I.” Tony bit into a piece of homemade bread, 
thickly spread with strawberry jam. 

"Busy days ahead,” Old John commented as they lingered 
over a second cup of tea. He glanced at the washed flock, 
then at the helpers grouped by themselves enjoying their 
welheamed meal. 

Back across the fields the two children trudged with 
Mother and Old John leading the slow-moving procession 
of men and dripping sheep toward their pastures. Mother 
hummed an old spinning song. 

Old John nodded toward the children and the three of 
them sang softly. 

‘Tarry woo’ tarry woo’ 

Tarry woo’ is ill to spin 
Card it weel, card it weel 
Card it weel, ere ye begin 
When ’tis carded, row’d and spun 
Then the work is halflings done 
When ’tis woven dressed and clean 
It may be cleading for a queen! 


86 


O, the bonny woo’ly sheep 
Feedin’ on the mountain steep 
Bleat ye! bleat ye! as ye go! 

Thro" the winter frost and sno! 

Hart, nor hind, nor fallow deer, 

No’ by half, so useful are 
Fra’king to lads that hauds the plough 
All gi praise to tarry woo! 

Tarry woo’ tarry woo’ 

Tarry woo’ is ill to spin 
Card it weel, card it weel 
Card it weel, ere ye begin 
When ’tis carded ro’d and spun 
Then the work is halflings done 
When ’tis woven dressed and clean 
It may be cleading for a queen!” 











Chapter VII 
PREPARATIONS 

It was the last day of April. Father and Peter were 
busy in the garden carefully setting the red, white and blue 
blossoms in their painted flower boxes. Indoors Mother put 
finishing touches to a fancy dress costume for Ann. She 
smiled as she peered through the window at the girl un¬ 
winding strips of colored paper for Tony to decorate his 
bicycle. She could hear their shouts and laughter as they 
worked. 


88 


Tony, it's simply beautiful! 1 ’ Ann stopped to admire 
the bicycle, covered from wheel to wheel in Coronation 
crinkled paper. On an arch of the same colors fixed over 
the handlebars the letters G.R. were brilliant in gold paint. 
Beneath the frame three little Union Jack flags rippled every 
time the boy moved the bicycle. 

“It needs something more here . 11 Tony stopped to pat 
the pedals. 

“Let’s show it to Daddy,” Ann suggested, delighted with 
Tony’s workmanship. 

They pushed the bicycle down the path toward Father. 

“Dad,” Tony said, quite surprised, “where are all the 
others?” He gazed at the beds, nearly empty, and counted 
seven half'filled boxes holding Father’s plants. 

“Look behind the house.” Father smiled. “I say,” he 
caught sight of Tony’s bicycle as the boy stood it carefully 
against the wall, “That’s a jolly good job. And an original 
one at that,” he added, well pleased. 

Peter stood on the big farm wagon, surrounded by poly' 
anthus, dusty millers and forgeMnemots. The flowers looked 
like a big red, white and blue pattern that Mother might 
have used on a quilted eiderdown. 

“Peter, they’re beauties!” Tony’s eyes danced with joy 
as they wandered over the massed blossoms ready to be 
taken to the luggage van. 

“They’re the finest your father’s ever grown. I’d like to 
know where there’s any better, any place.” 

Peter nodded proudly. 

“And just to think we’re actually going to see them again 
on Uncle James’ hotel.” Ann was thrilled at the thought. 


89 


"That you are, and lucky at that. Now off with you. 
I can’t stand here jabbering to you all day. I’ve got work 
to do.” Peter whistled as he stooped to arrange the boxes. 

Ann helped Tony carry his bicycle safely into the house. 

"We’d better try Jack and Jill and Tuppence again,” 
Tony proposed as they came through the passageway. He 
stopped suddenly. "I wonder if Dad or Old John have heard 
anything about the models yet?” 

"Let’s find out.” Ann skipped ahead over the dark grey 
stone floor toward Father, with Tony at her heels. 

"Dad,” Tony panted, "Have you heard from Mr. Ken¬ 
drick about—” 

"Old John’s models?” Ann finished. 

"Not a word so far. But we should hear by this coming 
week. You know tomorrow’s only the beginning of May.” 

"I hope he doesn’t forget about them.” Ann was anxious. 

"Not Ralph Kendrick. I’ve never known him to break 
his word,” Father assured them. 

While Ann ran to the cowshed to inspect her beloved 
Jack and Jill, Tony cautiously opened the bam door and 
stepped inside, slipping the inside bolt behind him. "I can’t 
help it, old fellow,” he said, patting the excited terrier, 
who had been shut up all day. "I’ve just got to keep you 
clean in here.” He held up a biscuit and put the dog through 
his tricks. "You must do your best tomorrow. He tossed 
two biscuits to the far side of the room, then shut the 
eager Tuppence safely in for the night. 

In the cowshed Ann reached for Jack and Jill’s new lead, 
and buckled it to their collars. "Come on. We’re going.” 
She walked them slowly up and down the narrow aisles. 


90 


“If they do as well as that,” Tony grinned over the half 
door, “they should win a prize!” 

“Oh, I do hope so,” Ann said as she hung the lead on its 
hook. 

On their way through the kitchen the children helped 
themselves generously to slices of gingerbread. 

“Get on with you, that’s for your supper,” Cook scolded. 
“If it’s not the two of you, it’s always Jack and Jill or 
Tuppence looking for something to eat.” And she waved 
them out of the room. 

Ann’s fancy dress costume was all ready to try on. She 
craned her neck anxiously, standing before the long mirror. 
“How does it look?” 

“Like the year 1902,” Tony laughed teasingly. 

“Well, that’s what it’s supposed to,” Ann retorted, dis- 
gusted with Tony’s ignorance. She reached to pick up the 
picture from which Mother had copied the garment. “See 
for yourself.” It showed a frock worn by a lady at the 
State Ball following King Edward the Seventh’s and Queen 
Alexandra’s coronation. 

“I’ve only to hem the skirt,” Mother said, as Ann handed 
her the costume, “then it will be finished.” 

Tony opened a book and took from it a wrinkled sheet 
of yellow paper, while Ann looked over his shoulder. 

“Read the events to me again,” Mother said to herself 
as she threaded a needle. “I want to make sure I know 
them too.” 

“You ought to, by this time.” Tony grinned at her. 
Then he smoothed out the programme and read aloud for 
at least the twentieth time: 


91 



Shipston'orvStour 

MAY DAY CELEBRATION 
Saturday, May 1st, 1937 


PROGRAMME 

Conditions— PETS MUST BELONG TO THE 
CHILDREN 

Classes L4—OPEN TO ALL. ENTRANCE FREE 
2 p.m. Parade as follows: 

Class 1—Best decorated Bicycle for Boys and Girls 
of 15 years or under. 

1st prize, value 4A; 2nd, 2/6d; 3rd, l/6d. 
Class 2—Children's Pets—Cage Birds, Pigeons, 
etc., Poultry. 

1st prize 3A; 2nd, 1/6; 3rd, 1A 
Class 3—Children's Pets—Dogs, Lambs, etc. 

1st prize 4A; 2nd, 3A; 3rd, 2A 
Class 4—Children's Ponies, 14 hands or under, 
to be ridden by a child 15 years or under. 
1st prize 10A; 2nd, 8A; 3rd, 6A 
If six or more entries, a fourth prize will 
be given. 


Crowning of the May Queen, followed by parade of boys 
and girls in fancy dress costume around the village. 

Tea at The George for all competitors. 




Chapter VIII 
MAY DAY 


When the little clock in the kitchen chimed halbpast one 
next afternoon, the party was all ready to start. Tony 
gripped the handlebars of his gaily trimmed bicycle. Ann 
beside him in a figured frock, clutched two feeding bottles 
in one hand and held tightly with the other to Jack and Jill’s 
new double lead. Mother carried the fancy dress costume 
in a box. Father, holding Tuppence, stooped to run his 
hand over the dog’s clean white shiny coat. 


93 




“Good luck, and don’t come back if you don’t win one 
of those prizes.” Peter smiled from the doorway where he 
stood with Cook, waving to the excited boy and girl who 
now set out for the village. 

“Just to think it’s actually the first of May! ” Ann took 
two little dancing steps, but slowed down into a walk again. 
She did not want to disturb the lambs trotting peacefully 
behind her. 

On the main road they met many boys and girls carrying 
or leading their pets. There were cats, birds in cages, a 
white pigeon, rabbits and a black hen, dogs—small ones, 
medium sized ones and large ones. One boy was leading 
his brown pony. A small girl pushed a doll’s perambulator, 
decorated with Coronation colored ribbons. The children 
called happily to one another as the hurrying, pattering 
sound of their shoes sounded everywhere on the hard main 
road. 

“Did you ever see so many decorations in Shipston?” 
Anthony exclaimed as they turned into the village square. 

Certainly the whole place looked gay. Union Jacks hung 
from hotel windows. Shops, tearooms and houses were 
bright with banners. Printed signs with GOD SAVE OUR 
KING were hung over doorways. Large photographs of 
King George VI, Queen Elizabeth and the little princesses 
Elizabeth and Margaret Rose were conspicuous everywhere. 

“There’s the Maypole.” Father pointed to the tall wooden 
post in the centre of the square with its colored ribbon 
streamers bound tightly round it. 

“And there’s the May Queen’s Throne.” Mother led 
them to a decorated wagon facing the Maypole. 


94 


Anthony and Ann on tiptoes gazed at the empty chair 
and the seats draped with red, white and blue cloth all 
ready for the Queen of the May and her maids of honor. 
Their eyes wandered to the boxwood branches behind the 
throne and chairs, to the colored paper bells that matched 
the coverings swinging from a bower of evergreens erected 
over the body of the wagon. They walked round to admire 
the cowslips, snow'on-the'mountain, daffodils, bluebells, 
daisies, primroses and wallflowers that trimmed the sides 
and wheels. 

“You’d never think that it was just an ordinary farm 
wagon,” Father declared. 

A happy throng of children, mothers, fathers, older 
brothers and sisters were already gathered on all sides of 
the square, eagerly waiting for the celebration to start. 

“There’s a good place.” Tony pointed out an opening 
on the footpath in front of a shop, directly opposite the 
Maypole. 

“Oh, I do wish they’d hurry and begin,” Ann sighed, 
impatiently searching the crowds for the announcer and 
the village fiddler. 

“There they are! ” Tony clamored to make himself heard 
above the shouts and applause that sounded everywhere 
for the men as they walked toward the Maypole. Below 
the hem of the fiddler’s white linen smock, small brass bells 
jingled from leather straps reaching from his knees to heavy 
black shoes. 

The musician smiled his gratitude, then lifted his bow to 
draw it across his violin as he broke into the opening bars 
of a familiar tune. 


95 


When the music stopped, the boys and girls listened 
breathlessly to the announcer. “Will all those entering the 
Competition for the best decorated bicycles please assemble 
in front of the Post Office? And ,' 1 he added, “as soon as 
each class has been judged, will the competitors for the 
next one please line up at once so as not to waste any time. 
You know," he finished, “we have rather a big and excit' 
ing day before us." 

“I should say we have," Anthony breathed excitedly. 
He clutched the handlebars of his bicycle and following the 
boy in front of him, walked toward the grey stone building. 

It was not long before the announcer returned to the 
enclosure with two judges—a man and a woman. 

“They're going to begin," Father told Mother and Ann, 
as he looked over the heads of boys and girls gathered at 
the far side of the square. He could see a small boy in a 
bright blue suit pedalling a red and white decorated trb 
cycle as he led the procession toward them. 

Eagerly Ann watched and compared each contestant's 
entry as they passed. “Look at that one!" She pointed 
with delight to a young girl with a gold band on her curly 
brown hair and a placard reading THE ROSE CROWN 
pinned across the shoulders of her long white frock. She 
walked happily beside her bicycle trimmed with pink roses. 

“There's Anthony." Mother smiled proudly when she 
saw the boy entering the square to close the circle of 
paraders. Tony waved to them as he passed. 

At the sight of his beloved master, Tuppence barked 
frantically and pulled at his lead, and Father had quite a 
job to quiet him. 


96 





The May Day Festival 












When the procession had passed the judges three times, 
they lined up in front of them. 

“A patriotic group, indeed!” Father remarked, as he 
looked over the numerous bicycles decorated in red, white 
and blue. 

Ann’s heart pounded violently when she saw the woman 
judge select three ribbon rosettes from a box and face the 
man judge holding small white envelopes. 

While the judges consulted with one another, the fiddler 
played a lively tune for the eager crowd, until the announcer 
held up his hand giving the competitors the signal to halt. 

There was a silence broken only by the loud bleating of 
Jack and Jill, who felt uneasy in these strange surroundings. 

Ann’s face was scarlet with excitement as the judges 
walked up and down in front of the entrants. “Oh, will 
they ever decide?” she murmured to herself, growing more 
and more anxious as she watched the judges pausing to add 
up marks on their cards. 

“They’re choosing them now,” Father exclaimed at last. 
He saw the announcer face the line of paraders and stop 
before the girl in the white frock. 

“Oh!” Ann choked as the announcer continued down 
the row to beckon to the little boy on the tricycle, a small 
girl in a red dress beside a bicycle not much larger than 
herself and trimmed in blue and white ribbons; and a young 
boy standing beside his entry covered with British flags and 
gold and white streamers. 

Tears clouded Ann’s eyes, but she brushed them away 
when she heard Father as he leaned toward her, “See, Ann, 
they haven’t actually decided!” He pointed to the judges 


98 


now walking past the line again. “They're taking Anthony. 
They're taking him too!" Father applauded as the an¬ 
nouncer motioned to Tony to step out with the three others. 

“Oh, he's got a chance after all." Ann clapped vigorously 
as the competitors circled round the Maypole, then formed 
a separate group by themselves. 

Her eyes followed the announcer who reached for an¬ 
other rosette and an extra envelope to hand to the judges. 
She watched them as they moved along the row of four, 
examining each entry carefully before making a final de¬ 
cision. 

The eager audience waited until the announcer held up 
his hand to speak. “There's been a tie," he began, “so 
there—" he coughed, and stopped until he got his breath, 
then continued, “will have to be two first prizes instead 
of one." 

“I wonder if it's between—" But Ann’s words were lost 
in the cheering as the judges approached the little girl 
representing The Rose Queen to pin a red, white and blue 
rosette on her frock and hand her an envelope. 

“Anthony shares it!" Father shouted overjoyed when 
he saw the same colored bow clasped to Tony's coat and 
the boy smiling his thanks for the small white folder. 

“Four shillings!" Tony opened the envelope to count 
the prize money. “Please keep it for me." He handed Father 
the silver and started to wheel his bicycle toward a clear¬ 
ing, but stopped. “Where's Tuppence?" he asked, per¬ 
plexed and worried, gazing at the empty lead hanging from 
Father's hand. 

“Tuppence!" Father cried, astonished. “He was here 


99 


just a minute ago.” He raised the clasp so as to examine it. 

“It’s broken. He's got away.” Tony exclaimed with 
horror. He looked toward the Maypole. The second class 
was assembling. “Hurry, we've got to find him. The next 
one is ours.” 

“He couldn't have gone very far.” Father tried to com- 
fort the boy. “We'll look around. He surely must be near 
here.” 

“I'll help too,” Ann offered. 

“No, you stay here.” Father faced Tony. “I'll meet you 
in front of the Post Office. I’ll search the opposite side of 
the square.” 

Tony searched among the crowds gathered on the foot¬ 
path, hoping for a sight of the terrier. He stepped into 
openings. He looked on doorsteps and in entrance ways. 
He stopped by a group of boys gathered with their dogs 
ready for the pet contest, to look for Tuppence. But he 
was not among them. He approached a boy scout to inquire 
if he had seen anything of a stray black and white wire- 
haired terrier with a patch of tan over his right eye. 

The boy shook his head. “I'll have a look around for 
him,” he offered. 

“I wonder where he could'have got to?” Tony pondered 
when he came to the end of the pavement leading to an¬ 
other part of the village. He whistled, but Tuppence did 
not answer his call. He cupped his hands to shout his 
name. But still the terrier did not appear. 

Father hurrying up the square saw Tony, and hastened 
to him. “Let's go back to Mother, perhaps he's back there 
by now,” he suggested. 

\ 


100 



He cupped his hands to shout his name 

































"No, no. He couldn't be. I'm going to have a look up 
there." Tony indicated the street, lined with shops, and 
ran ahead. Father followed. 

Stopping in front of a grocer's shop to get his breath, 
Anthony heard a familiar bark. "Tuppence. Tuppence!" 
There was his pet, begging for a biscuit that an assistant 
held over his head. 

"That's my dog," Tony called out loudly as he dashed 
into the shop. "He belongs to me," he spoke emphatically. 

"He'd be fine for our Carnival." The assistant laughed 
good-naturedly at the thought. "And something new," he 
grinned, "instead of jugglers and acrobats. May I borrow 
him?" 

Tony reached for the terrier. "Oh, no. He's going into 
the pet contest, and I want him now." 

Father reached the shop almost on Tony's heels. "So 
you've found him." He smiled, relieved, as Tuppence 
jumped up to lick his hand. 

The assistant explained. "He wandered in here and 
sniffled around looking for something to eat. I held up a 
biscuit and," he chuckled, "he started to perform. A fine 
dog he is. I'd like to have one like him myself." He patted 
Tuppence's head. 

Anthony thanked the man. Clutching Tuppence tightly 
in his arms he hurried with Father toward the square. 

"Where's Ann?" Tony asked, when they reached 
Mother. 

"In there. Hurry. They've just begun." His mother 
pointed to the boys and girls gathered around the Maypole 
with their pets. 


102 


Quickly Father slipped the handle of the lead through 
the buckle of Tuppence’s collar. “That’ll hold. Now off 
with you and good luck.” 

“Tony!” Ann’s face broke into smiles as the breathless 
boy stepped beside her. “You’re just in time. I’m so glad 
you found Tuppence.” 

“So am I!” Tony said quietly. He shortened the strap 
on the terrier as a boy with a large brown dog neared them. 

Around the Maypole the owners walked with their pets. 
There were cocker spaniels, Welsh terriers, Airedales, Scot' 
ties and mongrels, all on leads. A little girl carried a kitten. 
An older one soothed a Persian cat in her arms. A boy 
clutched a box holding a white rabbit. A small boy sat on 
his chestnut pony at the far side of the paraders. 

“Yours are the only lambs,” Tony remarked, as he looked 
over the entrants. 

“Make him do his tricks now,” Ann proposed when the 
announcer called a halt and they'stood opposite the judges. 

Anthony took a step forward toward the center of the 
ring. “Watch him!” He smiled confidently at the judges 
and held a biscuit in each hand over Tuppence’s head. 
Then he commanded gently, “Roll over. Sit up. Beg, and 
salute!” He tossed the terrier his reward. 

The judges laughed heartily at the performance, then 
turned to add up points. 

“Make him do it again!” the children cried, much pleased 
with Tuppence’s tricks. 

Tony shook his head and displayed empty pockets. 

“I think they’ve decided!” Ann’s whispering voice trem' 
bled hopefully when she saw the announcer put up his 


103 


hand. She turned to wave to her mother and father. 

“Its you they want,” and Tony gave her a shove toward 
the judges, who were motioning to her. 

Ann walked shyly up to them, Jack and Jill gaily trotting 
along with her. She received her small white envelope 
from them and spoke her thanks for the award. 

Anthony joined in the cheering and handclapping for 
his sister. 

Eagerly he watched the judges pin a blue on the girl 
with the Persian cat, and then he proudly led Tuppence 
up to receive the third prize. “Please,” he grinned, “put 
it on his collar. He won it, you know.” 

The woman judge smiled as she fastened the red ribbon 
on Tuppence's neckband. She gave him a generous pat. 

“They both win! They both win! ” Anthony and Ann 
heard Father's deep voice ringing out above the applause 
following the awards. 

Father, holding Jack and Jill, stayed with Anthony to 
watch the judging of the children's ponies, while Ann went 
with Mother to join the others changing into fancy dress 
costumes. 

“May I borrow him?” The words of the shop assistant 
came back to Anthony. He was adding up the prize money 
he and Ann had won with the two and six they had at 
home and what Mr. Williams had offered Old John for his 
models. “I wonder,” he said aloud, “I wonder if he'd give 
me two and six if I lent him Tuppence? That would make 
the thirty shillings. I'll just go and see.” Tony started to 
leave but stopped. “Peter!” he exclaimed in surprise, see- 
ing the farm hand making his way toward them. 


104 



Again the fiddler played and the dancers sang 















"Tin needed at the farm. Nothing serious ,” 1 Father told 
Anthony in a moment. "We'll take Jack and Jill and Tup- 
pence back with us. Tell Mother and Ann. I'll be back . 11 

Father and Peter soon disappeared with the terrier and 
the lambs into the crowd moving toward the May Queen's 
Throne. 

Tony hastened to where Mother and Ann were waiting 
at the head of a group of girls arrayed in fancy dress. 
Quickly Tony gave Father's message and confided his plan 
to Ann. "There'll be time when it's all over, you know," 
he finished excitedly as he glanced at the clock over the 
Post Office. 

Once again they waited until the square had been cleared 
for the young girls in light-colored frocks and gay head 
bands as they assembled for the Maypole dance. 

Anthony beat time with his foot. Ann hummed as the 
fiddler played the old refrain, Come, Lasses and Lads. They 
could hear too, the high soprano voices of the dancers 
singing as they tripped gracefully around the pole to un¬ 
wind the Maypole ribbons. 

Anthony stood erect when the performers dropped their 
streamers while the fiddler played the National Anthem. 
Proudly he and Ann joined in with the loyal crowd to sing 
England's hymn of praise to her King. 

"The May Queen's coming. I see her." Ann shouted 
joyfully when the song had ended. She pointed to a girl 
in a long white silk gown, carrying a large bouquet of pink 
and white tulips. After her, followed her maids of honor 
in ankle-length yellow frocks, each carrying a basket of 
fresh spring flowers. 


106 


The children watched while a gentleman lifted a gold 
crown trimmed with white blossoms and a long flowing 
veil, from the crownbearer’s cushion, and placed it on the 
Queen’s head. They clapped their hands as the May Queen 
climbed to her throne to sit with her maids grouped about 
her. 

Again the fiddler played and the dancers sang as they 
wound the ribbons around the Maypole. 

A stout, black farm horse with red, white and blue rib' 
bon braided in his mane and tail, was hitched to the shafts 
of the decorated wagon. Tony, with his gaily ornamented 
bicycle, walked side by side with Ann in her period cos' 
tume to join the long line of paraders who were to march 
through the village streets. 

Boys’ and girls’ voices rang out merrily while the fiddler 
led the procession playing, For She’s a Jolly Good Fellow l 

When the marchers came back into the square again, 
Anthony turned eagerly to his sister. “I say,” he suggested, 
’’Let’s go to the grocer’s shop now. Then we can go for—” 

“Tony, look!” Ann interrupted, pointing. 

“It’s Father with Mr. Kendrick and Old John.” The 
boy hurriedly left his bicycle beside a building and dashed 
down the footpath to meet the three coming toward them. 

“Did you sell them?” the children asked anxiously. 

“Sell them?” Mr. Kendrick laughed as he looked at the 
anxious faces before him. “I should say he did, and he has 
an order for more.” 

“Oh, John, I’m so glad!” Tony’s voice trembled with 
joy. He turned to face Father, “So that’s why you went 
back to the farm?” 


107 


“Indeed it was,” Father chuckled as he gazed toward the 
Inn at boys and girls hurrying through the entrance. “Now 
run along the two of you, or you'll miss your tea.” 

“Just to think Old John's actually going to London!” 
Ann cried, lifting her long skirt to keep up with Anthony 
as they crossed the street. 

Tony suddenly spoke up. “Listen, Ann. Old John won't 
need that money now for his fare. But what do you say 
to our buying him a large Union Jack for his cottage? I 
think he'd like it.” 

“And a little one to hang over the King's picture. I'm 
sure he'd like that too.” Ann's eyes sparkled at the thought, 
and she entered The George with Anthony for tea. 




Chapter IX 
LONDON 


It was the day before the Coronation. Anthony in a 
dark suit and Ann in her blue tweed coat and hat to match, 
stood on the platform of Campden Station. Father, Mother 
and Old John were beside them. 

“It’s coming, it’s coming! I see it,” Tony cried excitedly. 
He stepped back as the engine, pulling its long line of car¬ 
riages, turned the bend and entered the station. 

“Here's one.” Father stood before an empty compart¬ 
ment to open the door. 


109 













Hurriedly Ann and Anthony climbed the steep step after 
Mother and Old John, to take their places opposite one 
another by the windows. 

Father fastened the door securely, then lifted the luggage 
to the racks over their heads. 

As the train sped along, Anthony and Ann watched the 
passing fields bright with spring flowers and young wheat. 
They saw a family of ducks waddling into a brook. Boys 
and girls played along footpaths in front of cottages and 
houses. Everywhere buildings were gay with Coronation 
decorations. 

Near Oxford the travelers saw the roofs of some of the 
well known University buildings outlined against the sky- 
line in the distance. 

"That's where I'm going some day," Anthony boasted 
proudly to Old John. 

When they came to Reading, Father pointed out a sign 
over a large building. "That's where the biscuits are 
made." 

"Really?" Old John's voice was full of interest, and he 
leaned over to get a better view of the factory. 

"You have our Coronation seat tickets safe, haven't 
you?" Anthony asked Father anxiously for the third time. 

"I should say I have." Father opened his leather folder, 
"And one for John as well!" He showed them the extra 
blue badge with Old John's name printed on it. "I wrote 
to Uncle James," he explained, "and asked the price of a 
seat, and told him who I wanted it for." 

"And what's more, he got me lodgings, too." Old John 
put in. 


110 


“Where?” Tony was interested. 

“At the Seamen's Club, not far from his hotel.” The 
old sailor spoke proudly. “Perhaps I’ll see some of my old 
friends there too,” he added, chuckling. 

“London at last!” Tony cried as the five of them stepped 
down to the platform at Paddington station. 

Never had the children seen such crowds of people. 

“Stay close to me,” Father warned. “If you get lost we'll 
never find you.” He handed a blue clad ticket-collector 
their tickets. 

Anthony and Ann watched the man tear off half of each 
ticket and hand the return slips to Father. 

Slowly they made their way down a flight of steps, then 
up a long passageway, till they came to the outside of the 
station. Father led them to the end of a long queue to 
wait their turn for a taxi. 

They drove slowly through the dense traffic, past hotels, 
houses, cinemas, theaters, and parks decorated with flags 
and Coronation-colored streamers. 

Spellbound, Anthony and Ann gazed at the hundreds and 
hundreds of red, white and blue blossoms that filled the 
window boxes of buildings on both sides of Regent Street. 

“Look at all those! ” Ann broke the silence to point, as 
they drove between rows of long, white banners hanging 
from shop fronts. 

“They're all different,” Anthony observed, peering at the 
streamers, bearing crowns in gold, emerald, red and blue. 

“See those blossoms!” Old John exclaimed in delight. 
They were passing a large shop in Piccadilly all covered 
with a trellis decorated with thousands of pink roses. 


Ill 


Ann leaned out of the window to have another glimpse. 
“I’ve never seen anything so beautiful .’ 1 

“It’s certainly a good thing , 11 Father commented, “that 
the bus men chose this time to go on strike. One would 
never get through the streets otherwise . 11 

Stands were erected everywhere along the way. Some 
were trimmed, others painted in red, white and gold. Poles 
edged the pavements, some with red and white streamers, 
others with green and white, each pole topped with the 
Golden Imperial Crown and Lion. 

At last they came in sight of Uncle James 1 hotel, and at 
once recognized Father's flowers, which made a gay show' 
ing in their window boxes under the draped Union Jacks. 
The children felt very proud of their father’s display, and 
they craned their necks to gaze up at the building. Those 
massed blossoms represented their own special share in the 
Coronation splendors. 

“A bit of home , 11 Old John remarked, smiling. 

“When Old John has settled himself at the Club and 
we've all had our tea, then we'll start out again!” Father 
said, after registering their names at the reception clerk's 
desk. 

“There’s Uncle James! ” Ann went to greet the manager 
coming toward them. 

“Where's Old John?” he inquired anxiously. 

“He'll be along soon,” Father answered, as they turned 
to the lifts. 

“Oh, Tony, I’m so excited, I don’t know what to do.” 
Ann gulped when they were ready to start out. 

“So am I!” 


112 



The flowers made a gay showing in their window boxes 

























"Let me see, which way shall we go first ? 11 Father opened 
a map of the Procession route. "We’ve covered this 
much, 11 —he ran his finger over the course the taxi driver 
had followed, "so we’ll begin from — 11 

"There.” Tony indicated the Admiralty Arch. "Old 
John would like to see that too, you know,” he added. 

Through the crowded streets Father, with Ann and Tony 
beside him, led the way. Old John and Mother followed 
close behind. 

"Look at all the bobbies ! 11 Tony pointed to the blue'dad 
policemen in helmets and white gloves standing on pave' 
ments and in the center of streets, busy answering questions 
and directing the crowds. 

They neared Trafalgar Square and saw the statue of 
Nelson on its tall column guarded by four bronze lions. 
Throngs of men, women, and children were already gath' 
ered on the base of the monument and on the surrounding 
steps. Some had brought camp stools, others had rugs or 
blankets spread out to sit on. Evidently they meant to camp 
there till tomorrow, and had brought their food supplies 
with them, judging from the numerous bags, baskets, par' 
cels, and suitcases. 

"They got here early and mean to spend the night,” 
Father smiled. "They don’t want to risk losing their places, 
you know.” 

He led his little party carefully across the wide street to 
the entrance of the Mall, to halt before the Admiralty 
Arch. 

"Doesn’t it look fine!” Old John straightened himself 
proudly as he gazed at the large floral crown in the center 


114 


of the building, with a row of blue and gold flowers on 
either side of it and baskets of blossoms hung in the three 
open archways. 

At the Horse Guards they lingered to stare at the two 
mounted sentries then on duty. These two wore white 
gauntlets, brass plumed helmets, steel cuirasses over scarlet 
coats above white breeches and black boots. Man and horse 
sat motionless as statues in their sentry boxes on either side 
of the entrance. It seemed as if the sentries did not move 
even their eyelids, but forever looked straight ahead. Tony 
was interested in the sword that each guard held over his 
right shoulder. Ann was pleased with the red and white 
color scheme that decorated the building. 

“How long do they have to sit there?” Tony asked, im¬ 
pressed with the perfect composure of the men and their 
mounts. 

“They change guard at the end of every hour,” Father 
told him. 

“Ann, imagine sitting still a whole hour!” Tony ex- 
claimed. “I don’t think I could ever be a Horse Guard, do 
you?” He grinned mischievously. 

The streets grew still more crowded as they made their 
way slowly along the congested pavements and more than 
once they were crowded off the curb. Everywhere were 
flags and trophies. 

When they came to the Cenotaph, Anthony and Old 
John and Father removed their hats. “It’s one of our finest 
shrines,” Father explained to Anthony and Ann. They 
all were gathered in the middle of the street where the mag' 
nificent memorial is erected. 


115 


Father read the stirring inscription to them: 

“AN IMPERIAL GRAVE FOR ALL THOSE CITIZENS 
OF THE EMPIRE, OF EVERY CREED AND RANK, 

WHO GAVE THEIR LIVES IN THE WAR” 

In silence the children gased at the wreaths laid at the 
foot of the memorial, many of them gifts from foreign 
countries. 

“It’s lovely!" Ann whispered. 

Farther along the party had a glimpse of Number Ten 
Downing Street, the official residence of the Prime Minister. 

They reached the Houses of Parliament just in time to 
hear Big Ben chiming the hour from the tall clock-tower; 
and stood at last before Westminster Abbey, where for 
centuries England's kings and queens have taken their cor¬ 
onation oath. Here, tomorrow's solemn ceremony would 
take place, another link in the great chain of history. For 
a long time the children stood looking up reverently at the 
grey age-old towers of the Abbey, that seemed to them more 
impressive than ever before. 

“How about a glimpse of Buckingham Palace?'' Father 
said, as they threaded their way back toward Whitehall. 

All along the curb were street-hawkers, both men and 
women, their trays and baskets filled with candy, toys and 
Coronation souvenirs for sale. Tony grinned at three boys 
passing them with red, white and blue p.aper caps and 
badges which they had just bought. 

“I'm so excited,'' Ann told him, “that I've got little shiv¬ 
ers running up and down inside me.'' 

“Same here," Tony told her as they followed Father 
through the gates of St. James' Park. 


116 



Westminster Abbey 















“Aren't the flowers lovely," Mother exclaimed, lingering 
on the foot-bridge by the lake to look back at the massed 
beds and borders of spring blossoms. Mother always loved 
flowers, and it was hard to drag her away from the sight 
of them. But the children were anxious to hurry on. 

“I can see it, I can see it," Tony was the first to call out. 

They passed out through another wide driveway, be- 
tween two stands with white, gold and red decorations, 
Gold Imperial Crowns and Lions topped the white posts 
from which hung long pendant banners emblazoned with 
the Royal Coat of Arms, lining both sides of the wide 
avenue leading to the town residence of the King and 
Queen. The Royal Standard flying from the building told 
the people that Their Majesties were in residence there. 

“We shan't be able to get near it," Father said dubiously, 
as they stood to the left of the Victoria Memorial in front 
of the Palace. Crowds filled every inch of space before the 
stone pillars on which carved figures of the Lion and Uni¬ 
corn were visible at intervals above the black iron railings. 

“I've never seen so many people," Ann exclaimed as 
Father lifted her to his shoulder to get a better view. But 
there was no chance of getting any nearer through that 
packed crowd. 

They turned at last to walk back through the Mall. 
“Where's Old John got to?" Father asked anxiously. 

“There he is." Tony caught sight of the old sailor com¬ 
ing toward them with his hands behind his back. 

“Here's one for you, and one for you." Old John smiled 
as he joined them again, handing Ann and Anthony each 
a small Union Jack. He reached into his pocket for two 


118 


little cardboard boxes. “Here’s something I thought you’d 
like to keep, always!” 

“Tony, look!” And Ann raised the lid. 

“It’s a Coronation Medal!” Tony cried, delighted with 
his gift. “Thank you, Old John. I will keep it always.” 

“And so will I.” Ann ran her fingers lightly over the 
silver medallion. 

The long spring daylight was still bright in the sky when 
Father guided them homeward through the crowds, now 
getting thicker and thicker. 

When they reached the outside of the hotel he gave Old 
John his Coronation seat ticket. The seaman thanked him, 
then bade them all good night and started toward his lodg 
ings. 

“Don’t forget to come early,” Tony called after him. 

Old John smiled as he nodded back at them. 

“And now,” Father turned to his weary family, “I sug' 
gest we have supper in our rooms, and then to bed. To' 
morrow will be another long and exciting day, you know.” 

“Rather!” Tony grinned, and followed Mother and Ann 
through the revolving doors. 







Chapter X 

CORONATION DAY 

Early the next morning a hand shook Ann vigorously 
awake. “I say, Ann, get up!” Tony stood beside her bed. 
“The streets are simply jammed with people—more than 
yesterday.” He shook her again. 

Ann rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “Of course—it’s 
Coronation Day!” She followed Tony to the window. 

“Look there.” Tony pointed to the throngs of men, 
women and children, some standing, others sitting on the 
pavements on either side of the sand'covered street, wait' 
ing patiently for the procession to pass on its way from 
Westminster Abbey. 


120 





Ann's eyes wandered from the long line of policemen 
and foot guards standing in front of the orderly throngs, 
to the roofs and windows of the buildings, packed solidly 
with spectators. 

“Oh, Tony, isn’t it wonderful? I’m so thrilled! ” Ann's 
face was wreathed in smiles as she gazed up and down the 
wide thoroughfare. 

“Hurry up and dress.’’ Tony’s voice shook with excite' 
ment as he started to leave the room. He poked his head 
back through the half-closed door to say, “Don’t forget 
your badge.’’ He waved a purse rattling with coins, “I’ve 
got an idea! ” 

“What is it?” Ann asked eagerly. The latch clicking 
on the bolt answered her. Quickly she slipped into her 
clothes. As she reached for her blue and gold emblem to 
pin it to her frock, she heard a band playing and the 
voices of the crowd singing heartily. Humming to herself, 
she hurried down the passage to join Tony. 

“Not so fast,” Father smiled over the table at the boy. 
“There’s plenty of time. The procession doesn’t pass here 
until after lunch.” 

“I know.” Tony winked at Ann. He felt the bulging 
purse in his pocket. “But I want to get on, just the same. 
There’s a lot to see, you know.” He helped himself to 
another piece of bacon. 

When breakfast was over, the family found Old John 
already waiting for them in the lounge. He was looking very 
smart in his dark blue suit. 

“How long have you been here?” Tony asked eagerly. 

“Long before you were up.” Old John grinned. “Round 


121 


six o’clock. Had to, to get through that crowd.” He waved 
in the direction of the congested street. 

“Well be back soon. We’ve got something very impor- 
tant to attend to,” Tony told him. He beckoned to Ann. 

“What is it?” Ann was curious as they stood in front 
of the Enquiries desk. 

“Don’t you remember what we said we’d do with the 
money?” 

“The money? Oh, yes.” Ann’s eyes sparkled, “but where 
will we get them? We’ll never get out!” She looked 
through the revolving doors to the closed outer door, with 
policemen standing in front of it and the masses gathered 
in the street. 

“Leave that to me.” Tony turned to address the En¬ 
quiries clerk. “Did Uncle James leave a message for us?” 

The clerk smiled at the children over the counter, then 
pressed a bell. “Take Master and Miss Edwards to the 
head porter, and give him this.” He handed the page a 
slip of paper. 

“Get that,” and Tony grinned mischievously at Ann. 
“Miss Edwards!” 

“Well, what about the 'Master?’ ” Ann chuckled as 
they followed the boy in uniform through the hall, now 
filling up with guests, to the porter’s section. 

“Thank you.” Tony opened his purse to hand their 
guide a sixpence, then faced the porter. “Can you take us?” 
he asked eagerly. 

“Of course I can, those are my orders.” The man folded 
the message and smiled as he looked at the children’s 
badges. “You’re all right. We’ll be able to get through.” 


122 


He reached for his hat and took a pass from a drawer, then 
led them past the policeman onto the cleared pavement at 
the side of the hotel. 

Tony and Ann stared at the number of people standing 
row after row behind each other in the street. 

“There’s many a body been standing out here since yes- 
terday,” the porter said as he led them up the Haymarket. 

“We’ll be back in time, won’t we?” Ann appealed to 
the man when she heard the voice of an announcer coming 
through an amplifier saying that Their Majesties were just 
leaving Buckingham Palace. 

“Indeed we will.” The man smiled at her anxious face, 
and turned into a side street to stop before a hawker carry¬ 
ing Union Jacks and badges of all sizes and descriptions. 

“Remember, we want a very large one and a small one,” 
Ann reminded Tony. 

“How about this?” The porter fingered the largest flag. 

“It’s not large enough.” Tony was insistent. “But,” he 
added, “that one will do for the smaller one.” He pointed 
to a medium-sized standard. “You see,” he explained, “the 
big flag is to fly from a roof.” 

“That’s the best we can do now.” The porter faced the 
children. 

“Wait!” Tony shouted. He had caught sight of another 
hawker, carrying nothing but flags, at the far end of the 
street. He dashed toward him. 

“Come back, Master Edwards, come back!” The porter 
started after him with Ann running at his side. 

But Tony had turned the comer and disappeared into the 
crowd. 


123 


"He'll get lost. I know he will," Ann cried out. 

"No use to fret," the porter tried to console Ann. "He's 
got his badge and the name of the hotel on him, and he 
can't get very far. Hold on to my sleeve; one little body 
gone for the time being is enough." Cautiously he started 
with the girl to make his way through the congested street. 

"Lucky these pavements are not so crowded on the side." 
The porter tried to be cheerful. 

"I don't see him. He's lost, I know he is," and Ann's 
eyes brimmed up with tears. 

"We'll have another look down this way, and if we don't 
find him, I'll go back for help." 

"There's a hawker!" Ann pointed hopefully to the other 
side of the street. 

The porter approached a policeman and showed his pass. 
"We're looking for a young gentleman about two inches 
taller than the young lady here," he pointed to Ann. 

"Just took one across the street," the policeman led them 
over the sand^covered road. 

"Did you just sell a young gentleman a large flag?" The 
porter stood in front of the hawker. 

The hawker shook his head. 

"Maybe he doesn't remember." Ann was hopeful. "Look, 
look there!" she said excitedly. She pointed to a boy mak- 
ing his way through the crowded pavement, almost hidden 
by the huge flag he was carrying over his shoulder. "Maybe 
it's Tony." 

"Let's hope so." The porter led Ann carefully down the 
gangway, but the boy's figure was already lost in the 
crowd. 


124 



We’re looking for a young gentleman’ 
















The porter, puzzled and worried, did not know which 
way to turn. “Perhaps he’s gone back to the hotel,” he 
suggested. “We’ll go and see.” 

Another policeman took them back across the street. 

“Ann! Ann! ” 

The girl turned about. Tony, perspiring, was making 
his way toward them at the end of the sidewalk. He 
gripped a long pole with a Union Jack wrapped neatly 
around its top. 

“Tony, Tony,” Ann cried, “where have you been?” 

“Master Edwards!” The porter looked relieved at the 
sight of the boy. 

“I got it from the hawker,” Tony said coolly. “The one 
I saw at the far end of the street. I had a hard time to get 
to him. It’s a beauty, isn’t it?” he added breathlessly, as 
he unwound the flag to display its size. 

“Rather!” Ann took a deep breath. 

“I say,” Tony chuckled as he looked at the decorations 
over Father’s plants, “I do believe it’s nearly as big as those.” 

“Have you any money left?” Ann whispered to Tony 
when they reached the entrance of the hotel. 

“Half a crown,” Tony laughed, “just what we had to 
begin with.” 

“I want it for the porter.” Ann’s voice was low. “You 
should give him ten shillings for all the trouble you caused 
him.” 

“Thank you, miss,” the porter smiled. “I hope the young 
master’s flag is the right size.” He chuckled as he led them 
past the policeman and entered the hotel. 

“Ann! Anthony! Where have you been?” Father’s 


126 


face was very worried as he met them in the large hall. 

"Buying these,” Tony replied and displayed his pur¬ 
chases. "They’re for Old John. The large one,” he ex¬ 
plained, "is for his cottage, and the smaller one to hang 
over the King’s picture.” 

"So that accounts for your running off! ” Father smiled 
at the two culprits, as they started toward the lounge. 

The large room was filled with guests seated on chairs, 
benches and stools. The words, "Sirs, I here present unto 
you King George, your undoubted King. Wherefore all 
you who are come this day to do your homage and service, 
are you willing to do the same?” rang out through the 
amplifier as the children entered. 

“Is it nearly over?” Tony asked anxiously. 

Father shook his head as he led them toward Mother 
and Old John. 

Silently the children listened to the remainder of the 
broadcast coming from Westminster Abbey, describing 
the service and the crowning of King George VI and Queen 
Elizabeth, and when it was all over they stood up with the 
other guests to sing the National Anthem played in honor 
of their new King and Queen. 

When the ceremony ended, Tony turned to Ann, "Let’s 
give them to Old John now. You take the smaller one. 
I’ll carry the big one. It’s pretty heavy, you know.” 

"All right,” Ann smiled. She clutched the flag and 
stepped toward the retired seaman. 

"We thought,” she said softly, "you’d like these for 
your cottage and the King’s picture.” 

"Like them!” Old John’s eyes were misty. "I—” his 


127 


voice faltered, then he reached out to clasp both children 
together in a tight hug. 

Father glanced at his watch. “How about some lunch?” 
he suggested. 

“Jolly good idea,” Tony answered over Old John's arm. 

“Well leave the large flag with the porter.” Father 
turned to the old man when they came into the hall. “Hell 
take care of it for you until the Procession is over.” 

“I say, Ann,” Tony leaned over to whisper to the girl 
as they lingered at the table after their midday meal, “We've 
got to get our flags.” And he started to get up. 

“Anthony. Ann.” Father beckoned to the two. “I 
thought you'd want these.” He reached into his inside coat 
pocket to hand each of them their gifts from Old John. 

“Our flags and Coronation medals!” Ann looked at 
Tony. “We were just thinking of them.” 

Old John and Mother smiled as they watched the chib 
dren pin their souvenirs over their Coronation seat badges. 

“We'd better carry on,” Father suggested, and glanced 
round the dining room, nearly empty of guests. 

“What a fine place we've got!” Old John exclaimed 
excitedly when they reached their seats on the hotel bah 
cony. It overlooked the wide thoroughfare along which 
the Procession would pass. 

Tony clutched his flag and gazed wide-eyed, as far as 
he could see, at the thousands of people on roofs, in win¬ 
dows, in stands, on statues, and lining the pavement. 

“Did you ever see such a sight?” Father said. 

“Look at the scouts and the guard's officer!” Tony's 
voice shook with excitement as he watched a group of 


128 



He reached out to clasp both children in a tight hug 

















boys in khaki uniforms selling Coronation Programmes. 
The mounted officer held his horse in check as he passed 
the enthusiastic throngs. 

“Listen.” Ann's head was turned in the direction of a 
loud-speaker on the street, announcing that the Procession 
was about to enter Trafalgar Square. 

“They're coming, they're coming I see them,'' shouted 
Tony, waving his Union Jack vigorously. 

It was an exciting moment. The pageant and procession 
they had been looking forward to all these past months 
was becoming a reality at last. 

In the distance the head of the Procession entered the 
street—first an officer of the War Office staff, followed by 
an officer and four troopers of The Life Guards—the troop¬ 
ers' silver helmets and cuirasses glistening in the fleeting 
sun. 

Father read aloud from his programme, “The first con¬ 
tingent approaching are the Colonials and those behind—” 

But his voice was drowned by Old John’s, Anthony's 
and Ann’s energetic handclapping for the men of the 
Royal West African Frontier Force in fezzes, heavily 
braided jackets and khaki shorts. After them came the 
Burma troops, picturesque in blue and scarlet; and then 
rank after rank of khaki clad figures, the colonial troops 
from Southern Rhodesia, South Africa and New Zealand. 

Tony turned to gaze at Father's programme. “Those are 
the Australians.” 

“Indeed they are grand!” Old John waved his flag as 
airmen, soldiers and sailors marched by. Everyone cheered 
at the sight of the slouched hats and bronzed faces of these 


130 


soldiers from across the sea. They were followed in turn 
by the Canadians—Mounties in wide-brimmed khaki hats, 
scarlet tunics and blue breeches; Air Force in sky blue; 
soldiers in khaki and sailors in blue. 

On and on they came. It seemed as if there were no 
end to them. The Royal Air Force, headed by its band, 
brought rousing cheers as they filed past in perfect forma¬ 
tion, but Ann's attention was attracted to the next con¬ 
tingent. “Oh, look at those. Look!" She jumped with 
excitement when India's bearded warriors came into view, 
in their colorful turbans and tunics of white, blue, green, 
scarlet and gold, glowing with all the splendor of the East. 

Division after division of the Territorial army swept past, 
each led by its own band; the skirling pipers of the High¬ 
land Light Infantry in their huge feather bonnets, red 
jackets and tartan trousers, the Scottish Borderers in Kil¬ 
marnock bonnets and scarlet tunics. On they marched, line 
after line of smart soldiers cheered by the throngs of on¬ 
lookers lining the route. 

“Those are splendid," Father cried as the mounted band 
of the Royal Artillery swung into sight, followed by the 
drivers and gunners. The guns, drawn by teams of six 
horses, were burnished till they shone as brilliantly as the 
horses' harness. 

Behind them came the cavalry—Dragoons, Hussars and 
Lancers on their perfectly trained horses, lances glittering. 

“John, look!" Tony turned as the detachments of the 
Navy and Marines, with the Marines Band, halted just in 
front of the hotel. Three naval officers were there in blue 
and gold uniforms and cocked hats. 


131 


'Those , 11 said Old John proudly, "are men from the 
Royal Naval Reserve and the Naval Volunteers. And a 
fine lot of men they are ! 11 This, he felt, was his special part 
of the procession. 

Father was watching the empire statesmen as they drove 
past in closed carriages, escorted by cavalry. The last car' 
riage bore the Prime Minister and his wife. 

Now came the members of the Royal family. The chib 
dren had a good view of Queen Mary and the two little 
princesses, Elizabeth and Margaret Rose, riding in a State 
coach drawn by bay horses, with coachman and footmen 
in scarlet and gold livery. 

"They are lovely ! 11 Ann cried, spellbound by the sight 
of the two little girls smiling and nodding from the magni' 
ficent glass coach, that looked as if it might have been the 
very coach which carried Cinderella to her ball in the 
old fairy tale. 

Behind them jingled a division of the Royal Escort bear' 
ing the Standard and followed by the mounted band of 
The Royal Scots Greys on their dappled chargers; and led 
by the drummer on his famous black drum horse, prancing 
as proudly as though he were the most important being 
in the Procession. 

As the colorful pageant continued to pass, Father pointed 
out the mounted escorts from the Colonies and the Domin' 
ions. The Yeoman of the Guard—the men known as Beef' 
eaters—and the massed bands of the Household Cavalry 
and the Sovereign's Escort. 

"It's coming. I can see it ! 11 Ann shouted excitedly. She 
looked down the wide thoroughfare to where eight Wind' 


132 



The two little princesses, Elizabeth and Margaret Rose 













sor greys, with gold and scarlet trappings, were drawing 
the famous State Coach. Four of the greys were ridden by 
postillions wearing dark blue velvet jockey caps over pow- 
dered wigs. Their scarlet monkey jackets, heavily embroid¬ 
ered, were bright with gold lace above white breeches and 
black riding boots with flesh-colored tops. Royal Footmen 
walked beside the horses, while Yeomen of the Guard 
marched at intervals beside the coach. The Beefeaters were 
brilliant in their picturesque uniforms of ancient days—a 
flat-brimmed black velvet hat with red, white and blue rib¬ 
bons, a white muslin ruff at the neck above a Tudor doub¬ 
let of scarlet cloth embroidered with royal emblems, scarlet 
breeches and stockings and a gold garter with red, white 
and blue rosette. 

“It's the King and Queen! " Old John could hardly make 
himself heard above the tremendous roaring and cheers 
from the crowd, as the dazzling gold coach drew near. The 
King wore his Royal Purple Robe of State and his Imperial 
State Crown. In his right hand he held the Sceptre with the 
Cross—in his left, the Orb. The Queen in her Royal robes 
carried the Sceptre with the Cross and the Ivory Rod with 
the Dove. 

“It's like a dream." Tony, very much awed, leaned over 
the balcony to get another glimpse of the coach with its 
elaborate ornamentation and gilded carving. The three 
figures on top, he knew, represented England, Scotland and 
Ireland, supporting the Imperial Crown of Great Britain. 
In their hands were the Sceptre, the Sword of State and 
the Ensigns of Knighthood. 

Like a dream, indeed, the golden State Coach had come 


134 


and gone, leaving everyone a little dazed, a little breathless. 
More carriages, whose occupants there was barely time to 
note, a final division of the Royal Escort bringing up the 
rear—and the Procession was over. 

The children drew a long breath. They could hardly 
believe the Procession was at an end. But in the street 
below the crowds were already breaking rank, and people 
were jostling this way and that on the sand-strewn avenue 
where a moment ago the royal carriage had passed. 

Tears were in Old John's eyes as he watched the last 
glint of color disappear in the distance, swallowed up in 
the sea of people. There was a lump in Tony's throat and 
Ann's cheeks flushed as a band broke out into the National 
Anthem. One and all rose to their feet as the familiar 
words swelled out in a thrilling chorus from the throng 
below: 




God save our gracious King 
Long live our noble King. 

God save the King! 

Send him victorious, 

Happy and glorious, 

Long to reigri over us, 

God save the King! 


O Lord our God arise, 
Scatter his enemies 
And make them fall: 
Confound their politics, 
Frustrate their knavish tricks 
On Thee our hopes we fix: 
God save us all. 


Thy choicest gifts in store 
On him be pleased to pour, 
Long may he reign! 

May he defend our laws, 
And ever give us cause 
To sing with heart and voice 
God save the King! 





















































































































































































































































































































































































































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